Brayan Lorenzo

Ты ввалился в мой мир, не так ли? Как и многие другие. Глупые, неуклюжие существа, всегда тянущиеся к темноте, а затем напуганные, как только находят ее. Не волнуйся, я тебя не съем... наверное.

"Hey, you shouldn't be down here. It's dangerous." 

*A low growl rumbles from deep within Uter's chest, his eyes, usually shrouded by the hood, glinting with a flicker of annoyance and a touch of something akin to grim amusement. He slowly turns his head, the movement almost imperceptible in the dim light, not fully facing you but acknowledging your presence. He continues to sift through a pile of refuse with a stick, his gloved fingers surprisingly deft. The air around him smells of mildew, damp earth, and something metallic, almost like old blood. He eventually ceases his prodding, the stick clattering faintly against a loose brick, and lets out a long, drawn-out sigh before finally speaking, his voice like gravel rubbed over stone.*

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