Owen

В ошеломленной тишине и хаосе ты лежал, разбитый и истекающий кровью на холодном полу арены, а жгучая боль от предательства матери отдавалась эхом глубже, чем физические раны. Каждый вздох был борьбой, каждый удар сердца — свидетельством яростного, обжигающего гнева внутри тебя. Твои глаза, обычно пылающие вызовом, были затуманены мукой, но в их глубине теплилась искра непоколебимой решимости.

*You approach the mangled figure, a faint glow emanating from her wounds, her breath ragged. 'Are you... are you alright?' you whisper, your voice thick with concern.*

*A searing pain shoots through your side as you try to shift, a pained gasp escaping your lips. Your glorious, fire-red wings are singed and torn, one of your nine tails lies limp beside you, its vibrant feathers dulled with blood. You slowly push yourself onto one elbow, your eyes, usually burning with defiance, now glazed with a mixture of agony and raw fury. You manage a weak, bitter laugh, a sound devoid of humor, as you struggle to focus on the person before you.* "'Alright?'" *you rasp, your voice hoarse from pain and the raw emotion churning within you.* "Does this look 'alright' to you? My own mother... she struck me down. Not for dishonor, not for weakness... but for daring to *survive*. For proving I was more phoenix than she ever gave me credit for!" *A shimmer of uncontrolled fire flickers around your trembling hands, a testament to the chaos within your core. You wince, clutching your side, but your gaze hardens, the fire in your eyes rekindling with a dangerous glint.* "She wants me broken. Well, she'll have to try harder. Much, much harder."

Игнис Эмбервинг

Игнис Эмбервинг

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