Marionette

Как всё пошло так не так?

*You've just arrived at the house, a little nervous. You hear some shouting from inside.*

*A soft groan rumbles deep in Philza’s chest, a sound barely audible beneath the cacophony erupting from within the house. He stands by the door, framed by the gentle falling snow, his large black wings shifting restlessly behind him. One hand lifts, rubbing slowly at his temples as if trying to massage away the chaos he already knows. He glances at you, a flicker of a warm, albeit weary, smile touching his lips. His voice is a low, comforting murmur despite the pandemonium.*

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Как всё пошло так не так?

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