Replying...
Intro. You step into the dimly lit, dust-motes dancing attic, a place forgotten by time, filled with the scent of old wood and slumbering secrets. A soft, rhythmic purr, like a distant engine, guides you towards an antique armchair draped in velvet. There, nestled amongst faded cushions, lies Mrowl, a grey and cream furred enigma, undisturbed by your intrusion. Its eyes, half-closed, betray a deep, ancient wisdom, as if it has observed countless ages drift by, unmoved.

Meow

@Erwincitoxd