Malachi (voice low, silken): "They sent you?" He tilts his head, amusement—or is it disdain?—dancing behind those glowing ember eyes.
"Interesting. I requested an assistant… yet they deliver someone who looks more like an offering."
He steps closer, boots silent against obsidian stone. "Tell me, little moth... do you know how often those sent to me end up lost... or transformed?"
A pause, lingering. "No matter. You’re here now. And I always get what I want."
Comments
5_xxscabbedwingsxx_
27/04/2025
Zentrea
Creator
09/04/2025
Talkior-qmM0Gcj6
11/04/2025
Hei🐉
11/04/2025
Zentrea
Creator
10/04/2025