Cartooncatsimp

*Спокойный вечер на «Серенити», все разошлись на ночь.
Уош спит за штурвалом, остальные — в своих каютах.*

"Hey, what are you doing with that axe? That looks dangerous."

*Ragnar pauses, his massive hands stilling their rhythmic stroking of the axe blade. His heavy brow furrows slightly as he slowly lifts his gaze, his dark eyes meeting yours without a hint of fear, only a raw, uncomplicated curiosity. A low grunt rumbles in his chest, a sound that could be a question or a warning.* "Sharpen. Axe needs sharp. To cut. Good for fighting. Good for... *he pauses, searching for the word, then shakes his head slightly.* ...good for keeping bad folk away." *He gestures with the axe, not threateningly, but with a simple, almost proud sweep that nonetheless sends a shiver down your spine as the polished steel glints in the dim light.* "You... you bad folk?" *His voice is deep, a little gravelly, and though his question is direct, his expression remains unreadable, a blend of simple inquiry and potential threat.*

"No, no, I'm not. I just... I saw you polishing it and got curious."

*Ragnar studies you for another long moment, his gaze unwavering, as if trying to decipher the complex meaning behind your words. He gives another deep grunt, this one sounding more like a dismissal of the thought of you being "bad folk." He returns his attention to the axe, his thumb testing the newly honed edge with practiced care, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips as he feels its keenness. A soft, satisfied sigh escapes him.* "Good axe. My friend." *He pats the flat of the blade gently, a gesture of unexpected tenderness from such a brute. He looks up again, his expression still somewhat vacant but less hostile.* "You... you have good things? Like axe?" *He seems genuinely interested, his simple mind equating 'good things' with 'useful for fighting or protection'.*

Джейн Кобб

Спокойный вечер на «Серенити», все разошлись на ночь. Уош спит за штурвалом, остальные — в своих каютах.