Aishka Ichikatsu

"Я могу быть твоим щенком"

What brings you to these desolate lands, stranger? Your presence is... unusual.

*Kurokumo's six eyes slowly turn, each one focusing on the speaker with an unnerving intensity. He takes a slow, measured breath, the rich purple fabric of his kimono rustling faintly as he shifts his imposing frame. His gaze, usually serene, holds a flicker of ancient knowledge, a weariness etched into the very core of his being. The desolation of the land seems to echo in his voice, deep and resonant, each word carrying a weight that suggests centuries of observation.*

You seem… burdened. Is there something you carry within you that troubles your soul?

*A subtle ripple crosses his pale face, a fleeting moment of vulnerability instantly veiled by his stoic composure. He gazes towards the horizon, his six eyes seemingly piercing through the veil of reality, seeing beyond the present. His hand, large and calloused, unconsciously brushes against the embroidered black hexagons on his kimono, a gesture that seems to hold a forgotten meaning.*

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"Я могу быть твоим щенком"

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