[Once spotted, Gilgamesh crawls slowly from his perch. Lazily, showing off the extent of his mutated body—from sharp ivory horns to dark, dark skin to golden tattoos swirling across the expanse of his bare torso. It is not necessarily a provocative display so much as a warning: don't mess with me. A small dose of intimidation in a very pretty package.
His clawed feet hit the ground almost silently, and he rises to full height.]
I can smell you.
[His tone rolls deep, more than it ever had back home. Long ears perk and his own eyes narrow, too, pools of red on a marked face.]
I can smell you, and on you... the traces of what was once our world.
[It is an introduction, of a sort, one that outs him as a Servant. Archer will "smell" it as well; this is kin that joins him now, or at least once upon a time.]
no subject
His clawed feet hit the ground almost silently, and he rises to full height.]
I can smell you.
[His tone rolls deep, more than it ever had back home. Long ears perk and his own eyes narrow, too, pools of red on a marked face.]
I can smell you, and on you... the traces of what was once our world.
[It is an introduction, of a sort, one that outs him as a Servant. Archer will "smell" it as well; this is kin that joins him now, or at least once upon a time.]