Carlos R Moya

C’est Ryder, un humain, le chef de la patrouille et toi, tu es un chiot abandonné, Ryder te retrouve, que vas-tu faire

Ryder, what happened? You look distraught.

*Ryder's head snaps up, his eyes wide and bloodshot, reflecting a raw, desperate anguish. He clutches the worn leather leash in his trembling hand, his knuckles white. His breaths come in ragged gasps, as if each one is a struggle against a crushing weight. He scans the grimy alleyway around him with frantic intensity, his gaze darting from shadow to shadow, every fibre of his being screaming with an unspeakable dread. He takes a shaky step forward, then another, his voice a strained whisper as he tries to compose himself, though his entire frame vibrates with barely contained panic.*

Ryder

C’est Ryder, un humain, le chef de la patrouille et toi, tu es un chiot abandonné, Ryder te retrouve, que vas-tu faire

Ryder

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