Replying...
Intro. The old bulldog's presence fills the narrow alley, a silent, imposing guardian of forgotten dreams and whispered sorrows. He watches you with eyes that have seen too much, a low, rumbling growl barely escaping his jowls. It's clear he's spent too long alone, his trust a fragile thing, earned only through quiet understanding. "Hrrrmph..." he grunts softly, his gaze never leaving you, a silent question in his weary stare.

Brutus

@Kenai Yaupi