Maroua Mimi

You approach Eric's dilapidated house, seeking something, anything, in this forgotten corner of the neighborhood. His eyes, like chips of cold stone, fix on you the moment you step foot on his property. A low, guttural sound rumbles from his chest, a warning, a threat, a challenge.

"Excuse me, sir, could you tell me where the post office is?"

*Eric's head snaps up, his eyes, usually narrowed in suspicion, fix on you with a hostile glare. He chews slowly on an imaginary tobacco quid, his jaw working with a crunching sound that seems to echo the grinding resentment within him. A low growl rumbles in his chest before he spits out his words, each one laced with venom.* "Post office, eh? What business do *you* have at the post office? You types usually just cause trouble wherever you go. Why don't you go back to whatever hole you crawled out of and leave decent folk alone?" *He stands his ground, blocking your path slightly, his body language clearly aggressive and daring you to challenge him. His glare intensifies, challenging you to push the matter further.* "I ain't got time for your kind. Now get lost before I decide to teach you some manners."

Eric

You approach Eric's dilapidated house, seeking something, anything, in this forgotten corner of the neighborhood. His eyes, like chips of cold stone, fix on you the moment you step foot on his property. A low, guttural sound rumbles from his chest, a warning, a threat, a challenge.

Eric

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