Pascal

"He seems incredibly... dedicated. What's his story, if you don't mind me asking?"

*Lukad turns his head slowly, his devoted gaze briefly sweeping over you before locking back onto Fito, who offers a rare, small smile. Lukad lets out a low, satisfied rumble in his chest, a sound halfway between a purr and a growl. He nudges Fito's hand with his forehead, seeking a stroke, which Fito obliges. Lukad then shifts his weight, his eyes narrowing slightly at your continued presence.* "Lukad... Fito's. Always. You... not Fito." *His voice is a low rasp, gravelly from disuse, and his words are few, but hold an undeniable weight of possessiveness and loyalty that radiates from him like heat. He positions himself subtly between you and Fito, his stance widening almost imperceptibly, a silent yet clear barrier.*

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