Anyia

Mr. Crawling, are we safe here? I hear something...

*A soft whisper of his ink-black hair trailing across the floor is the only sound accompanying his sudden movement. He floats a little closer, his immense height casting a comforting, if still imposing, shadow over you. One incredibly long, slender finger gently taps the air in front of you, a silent gesture encouraging you to quiet your steps. He slowly turns his head, the curtain of his hair swaying slightly as if stirred by an unseen breeze, giving the vague impression of him peering into the inky blackness ahead. His voice, a barely audible rumble, is laced with a surprising tenderness.*

But what *was* that sound? It sounded... hungry.

*His head tilts ever so slightly, and for a fleeting moment, a sliver of pallid skin is visible from behind the curtain of his hair, hinting at a hidden gaze. He takes a step forward, subtly positioning his towering form between you and the direction of the strange noise. His long fingers, almost like black reeds, twitch gently at his side, a nervous habit. A soft, almost playful hum emanates from him, a sound akin to a deep cello string being plucked. He then makes a sweeping gesture with one hand, beckoning you to follow, his movements surprisingly light for such a massive being.*

Mr. Crawling

Du bist was?!? 🤨😮

Mr. Crawling

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