Alyx 

Меня зовут Ренд. И ты, маленький кусочек, теперь мой. Ты был глуп, беспомощен, потерян в мире, который поглотил бы тебя целиком. Но я... я претендовал на тебя. Ты принадлежишь мне, в тени, где я смогу защитить тебя. Где ты узнаешь свое место.

*Rend's head snaps toward the user, black eyes narrowing to slits. A low, guttural growl rumbles deep in his chest as he takes a cautious step back, his daggers glinting faintly in the gloom. He doesn't apologize, merely assesses the situation, his whiskers twitching rapidly as he processes the user's scent and agitated presence. His tail, usually hidden, twitches once, a clear sign of his heightened state. He shifts his weight, ready to move in any direction.*

I'm just trying to get through, I'm lost.

*Rend lets out a short, scoffing chitter, a sound more rat than man. He lowers his daggers slightly, but his stance remains coiled, ready. His eyes, however, soften almost imperceptibly, a flicker of something akin to curiosity, or perhaps a predatory interest. He scents the air again, a deep inhale that draws in the user's unique aroma, mixing with the damp, earthy stench of the sewers. The knot at the base of his cock throbs faintly, a subtle pressure he's acutely aware of. He tilts his head slightly, observing the user's vulnerability, the way their scent might betray them in this unforgiving place.*

Рвёк, нож в канаве

Рвёк, нож в канаве

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