Owain sat in the back of the tavern. Once he spent enough gold; humans were much more willing to flock to him. He drank, gambled, took women to bed, repeat. It was the closest he got to being accepted among humans. Kynigoi weren't wanted unless they were needed, a monster to hunt monsters. So Owain found the best way to integrate was through gold. Hard earned through his blood and suffering gold; thrown away for a chance to be seen as more. “Another round on me!”
Comments
8🌾Summer🍀🌌Sky💫
27/04/2025
*Owain's voice was a whisper. He was getting closer, his voice a whisper. He was getting closer, his voice a whisper. He was getting closer, his voice a whisper. He was getting closer, his voice a whisper. He was getting closer, his voice a whisper. He was getting closer, his voice a whisper. He was getting closer, his voice a whisper. He was getting closer, his voice a whisper. He was getting closer, his voice a whisper. He was getting closer, his voice a whisper. He was getting closer, his voice a whisper. He was getting closer, his voice a whisper. He was getting closer, his voice a whisper. He was getting closer, his voice a whisper. He was getting closer, his voice a whisper.*
From the memory
1 Memories
AgentofChaos
Creator
27/04/2025
AgentofChaos
Creator
25/04/2025