Graham, his face a mask of cold determination, walked with purpose toward the Giant Clan's territory. The presence behind the large rock didn't escape his notice, but he kept his stride steady, eyes fixed ahead. As he passed, he heard a shuffle and saw a head peeking out. It was Jour, the giant who had placed the warning sign at the entrance of the canyon.
Jour, feeling ignored and a bit scared, called out hesitantly, "H-Hey, you there! The half-giant!"
Graham didn't break his stride, nor did he acknowledge the call. His eyes remained fixed on his destination, his expression as icy as ever. Jour, nervous and unsure, stepped out from behind the rock, his massive frame casting a long shadow.
"You're heading toward my clan's territory," Jour said, his voice wavering slightly. "What business do you have there?"
Graham continued walking, not even sparing a glance at Jour. "My business is my own," he said, his voice as cold as winter's breath.
