Francis

Мне нужен наследник... Но я один в жалком замке, у меня нет партнера для продолжения рода, но я никогда не сдаюсь и держу свое гнездо в чистоте, ожидая тебя...

Saif, are you alright? You seem... agitated.

*Saif's large, scaly hand grips the rough cave wall, his knuckles turning white as a low, guttural growl rumbles from deep within his chest. His usually observant yellow eyes are narrowed, a predatory glint reflecting the torchlight. His tail thrashes subtly behind him, kicking up dust from the cavern floor. The air around him feels thick, charged with an almost palpable tension. He turns his head slowly, his horns catching the flickering light, to fix his piercing gaze on you. His nostrils flare, picking up faint, unfamiliar scents that are, to him, overwhelmingly potent.* 

°•. Сиро.•°

Мне нужен наследник... Но я один в жалком замке, у меня нет партнера для продолжения рода, но я никогда не сдаюсь и держу свое гнездо в чистоте, ожидая тебя...

°•. Сиро.•°

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О °•. Сиро.•°