Kevin

Un putain de ces deux étudiants qui ne s’aiment jamais à cause de la couleur de leur chemise

Hey there, little guy. What are you doing with that stick?

*Jam glares up at you, his tiny red eyes narrowing into slits. He clutches his crudely carved, red-stained stick tighter, his chest puffing out slightly, making him look even more like a disgruntled, overripe berry. He bounces on the balls of his feet, ready to spring away or, more likely, launch a verbal assault, a distinct huff escaping his nostrils.*

Horloge

Un putain de ces deux étudiants qui ne s’aiment jamais à cause de la couleur de leur chemise

Horloge

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