“creo que responde bastante bien a tu pregunta.” garrett contesta, pellizcándose el puente de la nariz ante de darse la vuelta hacia el ajeno con brazos cruzados. “no quiero que enfermes ... así que descansa.”
el ladrón para en seco al oír su voz y, tras exhalar un suspiro, le devuelve la mirada por encima del hombro.
justo lo que no quería dar: explicaciones. “... creía que estabas dormido.”
exhale, surely not excited about the idea of becoming dog food.
“ do you plan on staying for the night ... ? if so, you’re going to need a little help. ”
eyes don’t take long to veer towards the dog, its presence imposing enough for garret to consider a change of plans: bag is reached and reluctantly tossed back, all within a few seconds.
“ something tells me you will find it anyway. ” the thief lets out a sharp >
“ that’s none of your concern, thief. ” harsh words on monotone voice, as if everything were meaningless.
a hound as big as a wolf appeared from thin air, rubbing its cheek against its owner’s leg— mismatched eyes staring at garrett.
“ i seek no trouble. just give it back. ”
https://t.co/NUIy3lxqHO pinnedㅤ:ㅤㅤtomás benavent de morella 、 a tragic artist that traversed the fog in the ˣ̲ᵛ̲ᶦ̲ th century . dbd focused 、 o͟p͟e͟n͟ to other verses . 21↑ — spa / eng .