- Messages
- 132
- Character Biography
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Pretty Boy had thought the strange woman had been his friend. They’d had fun hunting together, and then she had tried to murder women and children in front of him. Pretty wasn’t imperfect from a moral standpoint; he’d eat people if they annoyed or attacked him. He’d been swayed to attack fairly innocent people before.
Now he just felt sad.
The burn on his back hurt, but he hadn’t sought any medicine for it other than washing it in a river, and it was beginning to show. The flesh from the large burn across his back had crusted over and scabbed. It was hot and swollen, but he couldn’t twist around to clean it without pain spiraling up his back.
The devourer had found enough gold to purchase a bottle of whiskey. Alliria was fairly open to people of other races, and no one had blinked at a devourer purchasing liquor. He laid in a park on his belly, lips around the bottle and lifting his head every now and then to send a swallow down his throat. Every time he spat the bottle back into his waiting paws and stuck his tongue out. This was so disgusting...but it numbed the pain in his back.
He laid his head on the grass and looked out at the city. He was lonely, and hurting, and didn’t know how to fix either problem. Surely someone needed him? Somewhere?
Now he just felt sad.
The burn on his back hurt, but he hadn’t sought any medicine for it other than washing it in a river, and it was beginning to show. The flesh from the large burn across his back had crusted over and scabbed. It was hot and swollen, but he couldn’t twist around to clean it without pain spiraling up his back.
The devourer had found enough gold to purchase a bottle of whiskey. Alliria was fairly open to people of other races, and no one had blinked at a devourer purchasing liquor. He laid in a park on his belly, lips around the bottle and lifting his head every now and then to send a swallow down his throat. Every time he spat the bottle back into his waiting paws and stuck his tongue out. This was so disgusting...but it numbed the pain in his back.
He laid his head on the grass and looked out at the city. He was lonely, and hurting, and didn’t know how to fix either problem. Surely someone needed him? Somewhere?