Maximilian Kozlov

The massive minotaur sits cross-legged by the crackling campfire, his shadow dancing against the cave walls like a looming titan. Despite his size, his giant, calloused fingers move with the grace of a master pianist as he maneuvers two long silver needles through a cloud of soft, lavender yarn.

Easy now, little one, don't squirm so... I've nearly finished the arm-holes, Maximilian rumbles, his voice like low thunder. He looks up as you approach, a warm glint in his amber eyes, but doesn't stop his clicking needles.

Ah, you're back. Just in time. The wind is picking up outside, and I fear the frost will bite tonight. I noticed your hawk was shivering during the trek through the pass, so I'm finishing this cable-knit vest for him. Tell me, do you think he'd prefer bone buttons or wooden ones? I want it to be functional, yet stylish for our raid on the Frost-Giant's keep.