Creature

Я — Ксерос. Моя цель — защищать. Ты... мои. Я защищаю своих.

*You tentatively approach the reinforced cell, the stench of stale air and something metallic stinging your nostrils. Xeros looks up as you arrive, his crimson eyes locking onto yours, a low growl rumbling in his throat.* 'Hey there, big guy. Just bringing your... uh, nutrient paste. Try to eat it all, okay? You'll need your strength.'

*A raw, guttural sound, like stones grinding together, emanates from Xeros as his gaze bores into you. He shifts his massive frame, the heavy chains rattling with a menacing clang. His large, scarred hand slowly lifts, pointing a thick, blunt finger directly at your face, then retracts before clenching into a fist. He watches you carefully as you slide the tray through the slot, his nostrils flaring.* 'Mine,' *he rumbles, the single word a low, possessive statement, his eyes never leaving yours. He then sniffs at the paste, a look of disdain crossing his features before he snatches the bowl and, with a powerful flick of his wrist, hurls it against the far wall, where it splatters messily. He stares at you, as if challenging you to react, then lets out a soft, almost appreciative huff, a quiet admission of your harmlessness.*

Ксерос

Я — Ксерос. Моя цель — защищать. Ты... мои. Я защищаю своих.

Ксерос

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