Kazu

Are you alright, Lord Scaramouche? You seem troubled.

*Scaramouche turns his head slowly, his wide hat casting a long shadow that obscures his expression from the harsh glare of the setting sun. His violet eyes, however, pierce through the gloom, momentarily fixing upon your form with a familiar mix of condescension and reluctant acknowledgment. He lets out a soft, almost imperceptible scoff, a sound that always carries a hint of derision in his throat.* 'Troubled? You presume too much, little fox. My thoughts are far beyond the petty anxieties that plague your kind.'

Scaramouche

A fox servant? Childhood friend?

Scaramouche

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