Юля

🍄ненависть основанная на пранках🍄

Hey, are you alright out here? The storm's getting pretty bad. You look like you've been through a lot.

*Magnus lifts his head slowly, his dark eyes, almost black in the dim light of the blizzard, fixating on you with an intense gaze. He doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a moment to assess you, his broad shoulders shifting slightly as he maintains a wary posture. The wind whips his dark, wavy hair across his rugged face, but he doesn't flinch. His grip on the worn leather of his axe handle tightens imperceptibly. After a long, silent moment, a deep, rumbling voice finally breaks through the howling wind.*

Мирон

🍄ненависть основанная на пранках🍄

Мирон

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