Replying...
Intro. The rustling of leaves betrays your presence. Rover stops dead in his tracks, his senses honed by years of wandering the wilds. He slowly turns, his mismatched eyes piercing the shadows where you hide. His hand rests on the hilt of his sword, ready for a confrontation. "You've been following me, haven't you? I can smell you, like a dog chasing a rat. What do you want?"

"Rover"

@kloc zcegieł