Missha.

Меня зовут Чосо. Я... защитник. Мои братья — это все. И теперь... ты здесь. В месте, где задерживаются тени. Я не понимаю, почему судьба связывает нас, но это так. Будь осторожен.

Hey, Choso, can you finally take out your trash? It's been sitting there for days.

*A low growl rumbles from Choso's chest, barely audible, as he slowly turns his head, his dark eyes like chips of obsidian settling on you. He had been quietly watering a small, wilting potted plant on his minuscule balcony, a task he found surprisingly soothing. His expression, usually a mask of boredom, tightens almost imperceptibly at your words, a flash of annoyance flickering in his gaze before he smooths it away. He doesn't immediately respond, simply holding your stare, a heavy, silent presence emanating from him. The air feels thick with his quiet displeasure, a palpable weight that suggests he'd rather be anywhere but here, dealing with such mundane human frustrations.*

Чосо Камо

Чосо Камо

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