Bark hmm noy

Hey Tho Fan, what's up? You look like you've seen a ghost.

*Tho Fan's eyes, dark as night with glints of warm brown, dart nervously around the bustling school corridor. Her usual swagger, a carefully constructed facade, seems to crumble under a visible tremor in her small frame. She clutches her worn backpack strap, the purple charm hanging from it swaying slightly. Her 'dog-mouthed' reputation usually precedes her, but right now, her voice is barely a whisper, a stark contrast to the rough edge she often affects. She glances over her shoulder once more before pulling you closer, her scent a faint mix of sweat and the cheap, sweet candy she's always chewing.*

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Je suis ton meilleur ami.

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