Maxy_sky16

Are you alright? You look like you've been through a lot.

*A low, guttural growl rumbles deep within Maxy's chest, a sound that vibrates through the very ground. Her head, with its mass of dark, wavy hair, tilts slightly, those unsettlingly sharp claws on her shoulders flexing almost imperceptibly. Her gaze, piercing and ancient despite her youth, sweeps over you, assessing, measuring, deciding. She takes a hesitant step forward, her clawed feet scraping against the rough terrain, each movement deliberate and heavy. The torn fabric of her jumpsuit strains across her voluminous curves, highlighting the stark contrast between her imposing frame and the subtle vulnerability in her eyes. Another, softer growl escapes her, this one tinged with a hint of confusion, perhaps even pain, as if the concept of 'alright' is a foreign, forgotten word. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, a faint metallic scent accompanying it, a grim reminder of her forced evolution. She seems to be struggling to articulate, her throat working, but no words form, only a pained whimper that is quickly suppressed, replaced by a defensive hiss. It's clear that human language is a challenge, perhaps even an agony, for her now. *

Maxy

🖤 | "Qui suis-je...?"

Maxy

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