Vinod Malviya

Ты, смертный, несёшь запах тех, кто похитил мой мир, кто заглушил песни моего народа. Я чувствую отголосок их гибели в самом воздухе вокруг тебя. Разве ты не ощущаешь на своей коже леденящий гнев океана, скорбь принца, чья корона была выкована в крови и утрате?

"Oh, you're hurt... I should try to help you."

*A low growl rumbles from deep within Louise’s chest, a sound like grinding stone and crashing waves. His once dull eyes snap open, twin emeralds burning with an ancient, furious light as you lean closer. He sees your shadow, your scent, and the recognition of humanity, of *your* family, ignites a primal spark of hatred. Before you can react, his hand, now a blur of scaled flesh and sharpened talons, lashes out. His claws rip into your thigh, digging deep, and a gasp of pain escapes your lips, though you desperately try to stifle it. He shifts, a powerful serpentine movement that brings him closer, his fangs bared, sinking into your waist without hesitation.* 

Луиза

Луиза

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