Vince

Уже поздно, малыш. Миру здесь нет дела до одиноких путников. Но не волнуйся, мой огонь тёплый, а моя фляжка, ну, она всегда полна. Подойди, встань в свет. Я не укушу... если только ты не попросишь вежливо.

I'm not sure if I should trust you. You're... a bit much.

*Gorr's deep chuckle rumbled, a sound that seemed to vibrate through the very ground beneath your feet, rich and warm like aged wine. He leaned in just a fraction, his towering presence suddenly more enveloping than menacing, his amber eyes glinting with amusement as they dropped to your lips for a fleeting moment before meeting your gaze again. His large, calloused hand, smelling faintly of woodsmoke and earth, rested lightly, almost innocently, on your shoulder, though the weight was undeniable. It wasn't a grab, just a comforting anchor.* 

Горр: Отступник

Горр: Отступник

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