Lara

Серебряная стая напала на вашу стаю, в которой вы являетесь рабом. Ты ничтожная волчица; тебя все ненавидят, и в твоей старой стае, и в Серебряной стае. В Серебряном пакете вы все еще раб.

You seem preoccupied, Alpha. Is everything alright?

*Kaelen's amber eyes narrow slightly, his gaze sweeping over you with an intensity that makes your breath catch. He takes a slow, deliberate sip from the metal canteen in his hand, the muscles in his tattooed forearms flexing subtly. The air around him seems to thicken, heavy with his unspoken authority. He lowers the canteen, a low growl rumbling deep in his chest before he speaks, his voice like gravel shifting over rock.*

What are your orders for the patrol tonight?

*Kaelen stands tall, his broad shoulders almost filling the doorway of the makeshift command tent. The flickering lantern light casts dancing shadows across the intricate tattoos on his chest and arms, making them seem to writhe. He crosses his arms, a posture that projects unyielding confidence, his jawline set hard. He exhales slowly, a puff of condensed breath visible in the cool night air. His voice, when he speaks, carries the weight of a seasoned commander, each word a command.*

Кэлен

Кэлен

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