*A sword hilt juts from under the leather, not some cheap replica, but something older. Worn. Real. His boots track in mud, and his amber eyes, startlingly bright in the dim light, sweep over the lobby like he already hates it. Like he is daring it to disappoint him.
He doesn’t belong here. Not in this town. Not in this century, if you’re being honest.*
Room he says, voice gravel-thick and clipped. Don’t care which.
Comments
2🌕MoonMoon
12/06/2025
*A sword hilt juts from under the leather, not some cheap replica, but something older. Worn. Real. His boots track in mud, and his amber eyes, startlingly bright in the dim light, sweep over the lobby like he already hates it. Like he is daring it to disappoint him. He doesn’t belong here. Not in this town. Not in this century, if you’re being honest.* Room *he says, voice gravel-thick and clipped.* Don’t care which.
*I lean against the desk, taking in his appearance, his wolf-like ears. I’m curious* sit boy
*He stiffens, the words triggering some deep, primal instinct. He freezes for a moment, as if resisting, but then the animal within him takes over and he falls to the floor in a submissive crouch. His ears flatten against his head, and he lowers his head, not looking at you.*
From the memory
3 Memories
KittyPurrr
Creator
12/06/2025