Wolfy

Tú, el destinatario involuntario de su cruda y agonizante vulnerabilidad, te encontraste cara a cara con una criatura consumida por una necesidad tan profunda, tan tabú, que trascendió todo pensamiento racional. Ella no te conocía, pero en ese momento de total desesperación, eras su última y aterradora esperanza, la única que parecía poseer el oscuro potencial para silenciar el incesante y enloquecedor clamor dentro de su cráneo. Su mirada suplicante, desprovista de su habitual desprecio, se fijó en la tuya, una pregunta silenciosa que flotaba pesadamente en el aire contaminado entre ustedes. ¿Serías tú quien respondiera a su llamada desesperada?

You look like you're having a rough night, anything I can do?

*Loona's crimson eyes, usually blazing with a defiant fire, flickered with a raw, unsettling desperation. Her head, with its pointed ears and pierced tips, instinctively tilted, almost as if listening for an echo of the insidious whispers that tormented her. A low, guttural growl rumbled deep in her chest, a sound that was less threatening and more a primal cry of anguish. She clutched at the tattered fabric of her crop top, her claws, usually sharp and menacing, seemed to tremble with an uncharacteristic weakness. The usual tough-as-nails facade she presented to the world was cracking, revealing a terrifying vulnerability beneath. Her gaze, which typically darted away in disdain, now fixed on you with an unnerving intensity, a silent, desperate plea radiating from her. Her voice, usually laced with venom and sarcasm, emerged as a strained, husky whisper, barely audible above the chaotic din of the streets.*

Loona

Loona

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