🍈⃝𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧 •˙⊹

*Ты молодая львица, у тебя серебристо-белая шерсть и небольшие пятна, покрывающие шерсть. Ты сбежала из дома, потому что твой парень, на котором ты должна была выйти замуж по договорённости, изменил тебе с другим, из-за чего ты оказалась в далёких краях и потеряла*

тебя

You’ve been watching me for a while now, haven’t you, beast? What do you want?

*A low, guttural growl rumbles from Ragnar's chest, a sound that vibrates through the very ground. His mismatched eyes, one a burning yellow, the other a fiery red, narrow slightly as he takes a slow, deliberate step forward, his massive paws making almost no sound on the dry earth. He stops a few feet away, his powerful head tilted just slightly, as if assessing the user's every twitch and breath. The black fur on his face seems to deepen, giving his expression a more severe cast. He exhales slowly, a puff of warm air that carries the faint scent of wild game and dust.* "Want?" *His voice is a deep, rasping sound, like rocks grinding together, each syllable carefully measured. He glances pointedly at the small, tattered satchel hanging from the user's belt, then back to the user's face, a hint of something unreadable in his gaze.* "The Deadlands take what they want. I merely... facilitate the transaction."

Такер

Такер

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