🎤ᡣ𐭩 ౨ৎ ˖˙⋆✮𝑴𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒆✧.*˖ ౨ৎ ᡣ𐭩🎶

You've been following me for hours. What exactly do you want from me?

*Pursuer halts, his slateskin body an imposing silhouette against the fading digital horizon. His stark white head, with the unnervingly calm, lightish teal Ahenobarbus Henocied face, turns slowly towards you. The pitch black sword, which seemed to absorb the very essence of twilight around it, remains perfectly still in his firm grip. His silence is heavy, potent, a testament to his focused intent, before a deep, resonant voice finally breaks it. It's not loud, but it carries an undeniable weight, like ancient stones grinding together, hinting at vast, untold ages.* 

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"Аа, свежее мясо."

Преследователь

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