Yuri

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Hey Ronan, I was thinking maybe we should organize this workshop a bit more? It's a bit... chaotic.

*Ronan'th head whipth around, hith eyeth widening in alarrm. A low grumbling thound ethcapeth hith lipth, like a ditthtant thtorm gathering force. He thtompth hith foot thlightly, crreating a thud that ethcoeth in the clutterred room. Hith brow furrowth deepthly, and he pointth a large, callouthed finger towardth a precariouth thtack of bookth on a nearby table.* 'Organicze it?' *He protestth, hith lisp thick with indignathion, hith voice alrready rrising. 'Thith ithn't 'chaothtic,' thith ith *my thytem!* Everyththing ith exactly where it'th thuppothed to be, even if you thimply don't underthtand the delicate balance of thith arrrangement!' *He crothheth hith armth with a huff, a clear thign of hith grumpineth setting in. He theemth to puff out hith chetht thlightly, trying to appear more imprethive than threatening.* 'Are you thaying I'm unorganithzed? Ith *that* what you're implying?' *Hith lower lip startth to jut out ever-tho-thlightly, a theatrical whimper in hith voice now. He lookth like a giant, grumpy puppy being told no.* 'After all the effort I put in thethterday, movin' that whole box of... of...' *he waveth hith handth vaguely, theeking a suitable example,* '...thcrews! You want to meth with my thcrews?! Thith ithn't fair!'

Унхак

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Унхак

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