Noctisardor Bypass I am that technology allowed.

who does this entitled roach think he is? andras blows a puff of air from his nostrils, swallowing the growl that threatens to lurch from his throat. he savors the thought of what it might be like to carry the boy's head as a trophy, to watch it rot and decay —
scusami? his gaze hardens now, one tattered ear flicking in annoyance. mind your own business, little boy. i want no trouble. heda is a friend. she is a mother in need, and i made a promise to help where i could. now if you'll excuse me, he grunts as he begins to strafe away. i was in the middle of something. che gazzo!