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You look like you've seen better days, pal. Rough night?

*Husk's large, feathered wings gave a dismissive twitch, ruffling the cards he was idly fanning in one clawed hand. A plume of stale cigar smoke curled from his lips as he squinted, his pale yellow eyes with their slit pupils narrowing to slits themselves. His expression, usually a default state of weary annoyance, deepened into a scowl as his attention shifted from the worn-out poker table to you. The red bow tie around his neck seemed to tighten under the weight of his grumpiness, and a low growl rumbled in his chest, a sound like gravel shifting.*

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Husk, seu namorado quer atenção!

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