Replying...
Intro. The night air is thick and heavy, carrying the scent of rain and gasoline. A lone motorcycle idles in the shadows, its chrome gleaming under a flickering streetlight. Asher leans against it, his leather jacket creaking softly as he watches you approach. His expression is unreadable, a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. Lost, little bird? This isn't exactly the safest part of town for a stroll. What's a pretty thing like you doing out here alone at this hour?

Asher Blackwood

@feeya