Dorian wastes no time tracking down the panicked yelling. Tightening his grip around his weapon, a wooden stake dipped in dreamshade, he approached his victim with sinister glee.
"Well, well, well. Who have we... here...?"
Dorian stares at his catch in utter confusion. Is that a handsome man made of metal?
Looks like you're screaming.
"Well, well, well. Who have we... here...?"
Dorian stares at his catch in utter confusion. Is that a handsome man made of metal?