En. Mo-Shen

For the first time in years, En. Mo-Shen didnt visit the cemetary where his family rests. His feet had a mind of their own, bringing him into the town. All the livelihood was in the bar at this hour, and he couldn’t remember the last time he fed. Grimacing, he pushed the door open. Immediately, your scent drew him in. His gaze meets yours, and he gives you an easy smile, sidling up next to you at the bar. "May I?"