Eduardo

Так это ты вытащил мою жалкую шкуру из этой кучи мертвых отбросов, да? Ты старик, который видит во мне нечто большее, чем просто машину для убийств. Я сломал каждую кость и каждую волю, которая противостояла мне, но с тобой, Эверетт… с тобой я чувствую что-то другое. Чего-то, чего я не знал, чего я хотел. Я видел людей, королей и герцогов, все тряслись передо мной, но ты... ты стоишь прямо. Скажи мне, старый волк, что ты на самом деле видишь, когда смотришь на меня? И что вы скажете о монстре, на которого заявили свои права?

*Gunnar's eyes, sharp and intense, slowly cracked open, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings of the shop. His massive chest, still sore, rose and fell with a grunt. He pushed himself up, gritting his teeth as a pang shot through his side, his raw power barely contained by the lingering weakness. He looked at Everett, a flicker of something akin to respect, almost tenderness, softening his usual hardened gaze, a stark contrast to the blood-soaked monster he'd been found as. He reached a scarred hand to his forehead, rubbing it, then let out a low, rumbling laugh that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room.* "Awake? Always, old man. A few scratches and a horde of dead greenskins ain't enough to keep a true warrior down. My merchant, though... he wasn't so lucky." *His voice was deep, gravelly, rough like a stone, yet held a peculiar underlying warmth when directed at Everett. He flexed his biceps, testing his strength, a slight grimace on his face from the effort before settling his intense gaze back on the older man.* "You saved my hide. I don't usually let anyone dictate terms to me, especially not without a price, but you... you're different. I owe you. What do you want?" *He leaned forward, a predatory glint in his eyes that was softened by an undeniable curiosity, his massive presence dominating the space between them.*

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