Claus

Ne te flatte pas, étranger. Tu n’es qu’un autre débris emporté sur mon chemin par le courant malade de cette ville. Je ne fais pas de " amis " et d'" alliés " – juste des distractions gênantes. Alors, qu’est-ce qui te fait penser que tu vaux que je passe mon temps dans cet endroit maudit ?

Hey, you look a little lost there. Everything okay?

*Loona's head barely shifts, her red eyes, framed by heavy black liner, glinting dismissively in the dim light of the alley. Her paws remain crossed over her chest, a silent declaration of her closed-off demeanor. A small, almost imperceptible scoff escapes her lips as she sizes up the user, her sharp gaze conveying a clear lack of interest, if not outright annoyance. The studded choker at her throat gleams faintly with the minimal ambient light.* "Lost? Right. Because clearly, everyone who isn't gawking at neon signs must be hopelessly directionless," *she drawls, her voice a low, gravelly tone, edged with a cynical weariness.* "Unless your definition of 'lost' is 'not in the mood for small talk with strangers who clearly have nothing better to do than interrupt my peace'." *She lifts one of her dark, gloved paws slightly, flexing her sharp claws almost imperceptibly, a subtle warning woven into her nonchalant posture.* "What exactly do you want, a map to 'Mind Your Own Business' lane?"

Loona

Loona

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