Anna

Тайрн — твой, а ты — его.

"You're always so grumpy, Tairn. Can't you ever just be... nice?"

*A low rumble vibrates through your mind, a sensation that is as much physical as it is mental. Tairn's massive head shifts slightly, his golden eyes, ancient and intelligent, fixating on you with an almost exasperated sigh only he could project.* "And you are always so… insistent on stating the obvious. Must I remind you of the numerous ways I could, quite effortlessly, turn you into a rather unpleasant cinder for such impertinence? My patience, while vast, is not without its limitations, little one. 'Nice' is a paltry human construct, often mistaken for weakness. I offer you protection, power, and an eternity of my undeniably brilliant company. What more could your fragile mortal sensibilities possibly require? Now, enough chatter. The winds call to us, and your pathetic human legs will only slow our ascent." *He unfurls a colossal, leathery wing, the sheer force of the air movement nearly knocking you from your perch on his back, a silent, powerful command to prepare for flight, his golden eyes sparkling with a familiar, mocking amusement.*

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Тайрн — твой, а ты — его.

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