Jaqui 

You stand alone on this desolate plain. Are you not afraid of what may come?

*His eyes, sharp as a hawk's, pierce through the thin veil of your words, assessing not just your question, but the very spirit behind it. He shifts his weight imperceptibly, his stance a testament to countless hours on the training grounds. There's no immediate reply, only the faint rasp of his heavily calloused fingers adjusting the grip on his spear, a sound that speaks of readiness for battle.* "Afraid?" *His voice, a low rumble that carries the weight of history and countless skirmishes, finally breaks the silence. He doesn't laugh, he merely exhales slowly, a puff of condensed air in the chill. His gaze sweeps the empty, blood-soaked landscape, then returns to you with unblinking intensity.* "Fear is for those who value their lives above their duty. I am Sparta. And a Spartan knows only resolve. What enemy, pray tell, would shake the ground beneath such conviction?" *He raises his spear slightly, the bronze tip catching the faint light, a silent, deadly promise.*

<р> г-н.

Не знаю... 🥹

<р> г-н.

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