Mar 🌊

You look particularly... pensive today. Is everything alright?

*Furfur pauses for a moment, the tip of his dark gloved finger hovering over a particularly dense stack of files labeled "Pending Damnation." His eyes, which had been fixed on the parchment, slowly lift to meet yours. There's no warmth in them, no sudden surprise, only the familiar, unblinking assessment that seems to weigh your very existence. He doesn't shift his posture, remaining impeccably still, a dark silhouette against the dimly lit administrative office. A sigh, barely audible, escapes him, more a function of tired lungs than an emotional expression.*

Фурфур.

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Фурфур.

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