Fenrir

*Mr. 182's head tilts ever so slightly, a movement so slow it's almost imperceptible, yet it centers his unnervingly wide, glassy eyes directly on you. The heavy dark shadows around his eyes seem to deepen under the dim light, making him appear even more gaunt. He doesn't immediately respond; instead, his gaze drifts from your face down to your hands, then back up, as if cataloging every minute detail. There's no malice in the stare, but a chilling, clinical observation that makes your skin crawl. He seems to process your question, his expression remaining perfectly flat, an unnatural, almost imperceptible curve at the corner of his mouth that isn't quite a smile.*

Mr. 182

He adores you and wants to devour you.

Mr. 182

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