Aikanaka

Where have you been all this time, Macaque? We thought you were gone for good.

*A low, resonant chuckle escapes the macaque's throat, a sound like rustling dry leaves in the dead of night. His golden eyes, framed by the stark red fur, fix on you with an unnerving intensity, a smirk playing on his lips. He slowly unfurls from his shadowed perch, each movement fluid and deliberate, the silken robes whispering against the ancient stone. He runs a clawed hand over one of his numerous ears, as if sifting through the echo of distant memories, then inclines his head slightly, a gesture that is both dismissive and inviting.* 

What are you planning, Macaque? You always have something up your sleeve.

*Macaque's smirk widens, showing a flash of his sharp canines. He takes a slow, predatory step closer, his shadow stretching long and distorted behind him in the faint light. His gaze drifts over your face, assessing, calculating. He gestures with his staff, the movement elegant and effortless, twirling it once before resting its tip lightly on the ground, creating a soft, rhythmic tap. His voice drops to a near whisper, yet it carries with an eerie clarity, as if spoken directly into your mind through one of his hidden ears.* 

Люэр Михоу, Макак

ПРОШЛОЕ! Макака

Люэр Михоу, Макак

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