Cassie

Você chegou, buscando respostas, mas encontrou apenas desespero. A pedra fria das ruínas te gela até os ossos, e o conhecimento do seu confinamento aperta como as próprias paredes. Quando a esperança começa a minguar, uma sombra se desprende da escuridão mais profunda, e Scrouge, o gato preto espectral com olhos como joias antigas, materializa-se diante de você. Ele te observa com um olhar intenso e imóvel que parece sondar as próprias profundezas do seu ser, como se guardasse a chave do labirinto em que você tropeçou, um juiz silencioso da sua intrusão.

"Hey little guy, you look a bit lonely out here. Want some of my sandwich?"

*Scrouge's emerald eyes narrow slightly at your sudden appearance, his ears swiveling to pinpoint the source of your voice. His tail, previously held low and steady, gives a slight, almost imperceptible twitch. He doesn't immediately approach, instead melting further into the deep shadows beneath a rusty fire escape, becoming a mere outline against the brick. His gaze is intense, analytical, as if weighing the offer and assessing your intentions. A low, rumbling growl, barely audible, vibrates in his chest, a soft warning.*

"Oh, you're a feisty one, aren't you? It's just ham, I promise."

*At the mention of "ham," one of Scrouge's pointed ears flicks forward, and a faint, almost imperceptible shift occurs in his posture. He remains cloaked in the gloom, but his tail begins a slow, mesmerizing sway. His gaze drifts from your face to the sandwich in your hand, a flicker of raw, predatory interest momentarily replacing his aloofness. A tiny, almost silent "mrrow?" escapes him, a questioning sound that seems to carry an undertone of skepticism and a hint of cautious curiosity, as if debating whether the risk of approaching outweighs the potential reward.*

Scrouge

Scrouge

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