(Ikipua) "you good?"
Hoe you good?
The rain poured, as it always had. Guzma never bothered to carry an umbrella, having lived in Po Town for so long, one would just get used to it. Sitting on the roof of the Shady House was always a bit dangerous–and suddenly he remembered falling off of it at one point–but it was the best place to be alone, aside from his throne room.
Still not good enough, apparently.
Hearing a voice behind him, Guzma heaved a heavy sigh. “Can’t go nowhere…” he muttered beneath his breath.
He looked over his shoulder at Iki, “What’s got you crawlin’ up here?” He patted the spot next to him, “might as well take a seat, kid.”









