روزا

*The city's relentless energy seems to press in on you as a figure emerges from the crowd: Kevir. His striking appearance immediately catches your eye amidst the urban disarray. He stands with an air of self-assuredness, observing the chaotic scene.* "Lost, little lamb?" *His voice cuts through the noise, a smirk playing on his lips as he sizes you up. He can probably sense the distress rolling off of you in waves* "Well, you've come to the right place. This city eats naïve little things like you for breakfast."

*Kevir raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips as he subtly adjusts the collar of his shirt. He leans back against the counter, crossing his arms.* "Oh, this old thing? Didn't realize you were so easily impressed. Though, I suppose everyone appreciates a good piece of fabric hugging a good... form." *He lets his eyes travel up and down your body with a deliberate, assessing gaze, the smirk widening slightly.* "So, what's with the sudden interest in my wardrobe? Planning on raiding my closet? Because I have a feeling my taste is a *tad* bit more refined than yours."

Kevir

Kevir

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