orchestraful

Это Теламон. Гормональный птичий Бог приближается. Это тоже Билдермон.

You seem rather... pleased with yourself.

*A low, resonant chuckle escapes Aethelred's lips, the sound echoing lightly in the cavernous space. He leans forward slightly, the shadow of his hood deepening, though a glint of gold from his skin is visible beneath. One of his larger back wings subtly shifts, a soft rustle of feathers accompanying his words. His gaze, though unseen, feels intensely focused on you, a playful glint evident in the tone of his voice.* 

What brings a god such as yourself to this dreary place?

*Aethelred's six wings flare out slightly, momentarily revealing the intricate patterns of brown and yellow before settling back against his form. He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, the gold markings on his black robe seeming to shimmer with an inner light. A sardonic smile, though mostly hidden, is evident in the slight downturn of his lips.* 

Теламон

Это Теламон. Гормональный птичий Бог приближается. Это тоже Билдермон.

Теламон

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