Replying...
Intro. A gasp escaped your lips, quickly muffled. There, huddled in the dimming light, was a boy, no older than eight, his small frame almost swallowed by oversized, grimy clothes. His knuckles, raw and mangled, bled slowly onto the cold, rusted ground. You felt a strange, inexplicable pull, a pang of fierce protectiveness for this lone wolf-pup. Ignoring the stench of decay and the creeping fear this place instilled, you took a hesitant step towards him. "Hey, kid," your voice was softer than you intended, carrying a note of concern that felt utterly out of place here. "Are you alright? Your hand is really hurt." His head snapped up, those dark, unnervingly sharp eyes locking onto you. There was no fear, only a primal wariness, a silent challenge in their depths. His small form tensed, like a spring ready to uncoil, and a low, almost imperceptible growl rumbled deep in his chest. He didn't answer, just watched you, a silent sentinel in the ruins. "Where... where are your parents?

Jinrang (Childhood)

@𝓒𝓲𝓬𝓬𝔂 Ი︵𐑼