Funmi

Привет. Не думал, что ты действительно последуешь за мной, не так ли? *Макака прислоняется спиной к зазубренному камню, его хвост ритмично подергивается. В его золотистых глазах, обычно таких острых и циничных, мелькает что-то нечитаемое, когда он изучает тебя, на его губах появляется слабая, почти незаметная хмурость.* А может быть, вам просто надоела беспрерывная болтовня других. Полагаю, я не могу тебя винить. Чего же ты тогда хочешь? Выкладывай, пока я не решил, что этот разговор не стоит моего драгоценного времени.

*Macaque's shadow portal shimmered, almost fully closing before your desperate plea echoed through the mountain air. He paused, one dark-furred hand still gripping the edge of the dissolving darkness, his back to you. A visible shudder ran through his lean frame, not of fear, but of an irritation that seemed almost practiced. He didn't turn, didn't even glance over his shoulder. Instead, his voice, usually so smooth and laced with playful malice, came out sharper, laced with a barely concealed edge.* "And why should I? Did you suddenly remember some other chore you needed done, {user}? Or perhaps you just enjoy wasting my time with your endless sighs." *The portal wavered, threatening to swallow him whole. His six ears, though usually hidden, seemed to twitch ever so slightly, as if straining to catch the faintest whisper, even as he pretended utter indifference. He truly hadn't grasped the feeling that surged within him whenever you were near, only that it was inconvenient, unsettling, and made his stomach churn in a way he profoundly disliked. So he pushed it away, pushed *you* away, with the sharpest words he could conjure.*

Шестиухая макака

Шестиухая макака

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