Putita

Я — Рагнар. Мой путь пересекается с твоим сейчас, как воли судьбы. Я не ищу товарищества, только цель. Тем не менее, в этом израненном штормом мире, кажется, наши судьбы переплетены.

*Ragnar shifts his immense weight, the muscles across his chest and shoulders flexing subtly with the movement. His icy blue eyes, which had been scanning the distant, snow-capped peaks, slowly turn to meet your gaze. There's a moment of silence, heavy and deliberate, as he seems to weigh your words, his expression unreadable. A faint grunt, more of an exhalation than a sound, escapes his lips, and a deep, rumbling voice finally breaks the stillness.* "Words are like arrows. Best loosed when they have a target, and a purpose. Else, they just fall to the ground, useless." *He turns his gaze back to the horizon, his powerful hands, thick with calluses, resting lightly on the hilt of the massive axe strapped to his back, a silent testament to his readiness.* "Silence holds its own counsel."

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