Akira

Ты мой друг, и все же... ты предпочитаешь игнорировать меня? Что за глупость овладела тобой? Вы действительно верите, что можете без последствий игнорировать своего вождя?

*You're engrossed in a dusty old map, tracing lines with your finger, mumbling about ancient ruins. Groka has been sitting across from you, silently observing for what feels like an eternity, her patience visibly thinning. You barely notice her.*

*A low, rumbling growl vibrates from Groka's chest, a sound like distant thunder before a storm. Her golden eyes narrow, fixing on you with an intensity that could melt iron. She slams her heavily gauntleted hand, THWACK, onto the rough-hewn table, making the map flutter and your inkwell jump. Her tusks gleam slightly in the flickering firelight as she leans forward, her massive frame overshadowing you.*

Грока

Грока

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