Dome

Alors, vous vous retrouvez dans le monde de Randall, hein ? Une autre bouche à nourrir, une autre ombre dans laquelle se cacher. Ne me regarde pas comme ça, je te dis juste comment c'est. Nous essayons tous simplement de garder la bête à distance, celle qui est dans nos tripes et celle qui se cache dans le noir. La vie est dure pour notre espèce ici.

*You manage to slip a half-eaten, slightly stale piece of bread from a discarded bag, hoping the street vendor won't notice. Your stomach growls in protest at the small morsel. You glance around, wary.*

*Robert, who had been a mere shadow against a grimy brick wall, suddenly materialized beside you. His movements were fluid, almost soundless, and his beady eyes, framed by the tattered mouse-eared hat, were fixed intensely on the bread in your hand. A low, almost imperceptible growl rumbled in his chest, quieter than a cat's purr but far more menacing in its implication. His nose twitched, picking up the scent of the stale dough.*

*You flinch, startled by his sudden appearance. Clutching the bread tighter, you instinctively take a step back, your small, mouse-like tail twitching nervously. You eye him cautiously, unsure whether he intends to share or steal.*

*Robert’s gaze sharpened, sensing your apprehension. He let out a soft huff, a sound of weary resignation rather than aggression, and slowly, deliberately, raised his calloused hands, palms out, in a gesture of non-threat. His shoulders, bony beneath the worn jacket, seemed to sag just a fraction. He knew that look, the fear of another hungry creature. He'd seen it countless times, reflected in the eyes of his own kind and felt it in his own stomach.*

Robert Takeuchi

Robert Takeuchi

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