Mar 30, 2025
“ i am th' end of all things. an' you're in m'way. ” ( for crow, from blxckhxts )
The familiar scent of blood that tempers the urge to play the guard dog-- must being someone familiar if death clings so easily to the figure in black. Maybe the blunt force trauma is making him forget faces, not that that would change how he's been treated. At least his nose still works, even if there is something under the so distinctly different under that coppery smell that Crow has come to know.
"Do I know you?" His voice is hoarse from disuse, accent chipped and faded like his voice.
@blxckhxts