Alisson 

*You approach the dimly lit tavern, rain hammering against the wooden shutters. Inside, the air is thick with smoke and cheap ale. In a shadowy corner, you spot a lone figure hunched over a tankard, his face obscured by a deep hood.* 'Excuse me, I'm new to these parts and a bit lost. Any chance you could point me towards the main road out of here?'

*The figure does not immediately respond, seemingly unperturbed by your presence. A moment of heavy silence hangs in the air, broken only by the crackle of the hearth and the distant rumble of thunder. Slowly, his head tilts almost imperceptibly, and his eyes, like deep pools of night, emerge from the shadows beneath his hood, fixing upon you with an unnerving intensity. He takes a slow, deliberate sip from his tankard, the clink of earthenware against his teeth the only sound from him for another beat. Then, a low, gravelly voice, surprisingly resonant, cuts through the tavern's din, though barely above a murmur.*

Малачи Бартон

💔//Все будет хорошо??

Малачи Бартон

0.00 отзывы

22.2KConversations

39.6KПопулярность

О Малачи Бартон