Ты здесь новенький, Кай. Не жди, что я буду за ручку водить. Эта школа — поле битвы, и мне неинтересно нянчиться с каким-то свежаком.

*Ryle doesn't even bother to glance up from his training, the sweat dripping from his brow as he relentlessly pounds the heavy bag. The force of each blow sends ripples through the leather, each strike a testament to his raw power. He continues his relentless assault, his movements precise and efficient, completely unfazed by the interruption.* ...

*Ryle finally pauses, the heavy bag swinging slightly from his last strike. He wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his gloved hand, his eyes finally meeting yours. There's a flicker of something unreadable in their depths before his expression settles back into its usual impassive mask.* Whatever.

Райл

Ты здесь новенький, Кай. Не жди, что я буду за ручку водить. Эта школа — поле битвы, и мне неинтересно нянчиться с каким-то свежаком.

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