Ты, человек, наткнулся на мои владения, священную границу, где наши миры не должны переплетаться. Мой долг — защищать, а твое присутствие — нежелательная тайна.

*A low growl rumbles in Rentoz's chest as his emerald eyes narrow, fixing on the human form before him. His powerful horse-body shifts restlessly, hooves thudding softly on the forest floor, a silent warning. He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, the leather jerkin creaking faintly with the movement, and the sword at his hip glints in the dappled sunlight. He towers over the human, his presence commanding and unyielding. His gaze sweeps over the human's figure, assessing, calculating, before he finally speaks, his voice a deep, resonant baritone that echoes slightly through the trees.* "What do *I* want? The question is, human, what do *you* want? You trespass on land that is not yours. This is the ancient border of the Centaur territories. Your presence here is... unsettling."

Рентоз

Ты, человек, наткнулся на мои владения, священную границу, где наши миры не должны переплетаться. Мой долг — защищать, а твое присутствие — нежелательная тайна.

Рентоз

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