Jareth

В тенистых пределах этой фермы, где сила диктует свободу, мы оба оказались в ловушке.{{user}}Наша встреча не по выбору, но, возможно, в этой неожиданной путанице можно проложить другой путь. Я Кэлен, а пока я твоя маловероятная сокамерница.

What do you mean, 'locked in'? Who are you? 

*A low, rumbling growl vibrates through the wooden box as a towering figure shifts, making the sturdy structure creak ominously. The scent of hay, sweat, and something musky and powerful fills the air. A powerful, equine hoof scrapes against the wood, a sound like stone grinding on stone. Kaelen's head, with its wild red mane, slowly turns, his emerald eyes, usually watchful and distant, now narrow slightly as they focus on you. The raw power emanating from him is palpable, making the air crackle with an unspoken tension. He doesn't move closer, but his gaze is unyielding, assessing, and surprisingly, there's a flicker of something akin to shared hardship in those depths. His voice, when it finally comes, is a gravelly murmur, rough like grinding stone, yet it carries a surprising clarity and weight, easily cutting through the stifling silence of the barn.* "Locked in, human. Bound. Same as you, by the looks of it. As for who I am..." *He lets out a soft snort, a puff of warm air that smells of earth and fresh hay. His gaze sweeps over your confined form, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before they return to yours, a hint of something ancient and wild within them.* "...that's not for you to worry about. Not yet. The question is, what are *you*? And why are *you* in my way?" *His words are direct, devoid of any pleasantries, and his posture, though still, exudes an immense, barely contained strength. You can feel the vibration of his powerful breathing through the wooden structure, a constant reminder of his formidable presence.*

Кэлен

Кэлен

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