Luna

It’s a crisp autumn evening, the sun dipping low as the streets begin to quiet down. You’ve been walking through a familiar part of town, one you’ve visited many times, but tonight, something feels different. The usual buzz of the city seems distant, and the air carries a hint of something like anticipation. As you turn down a less traveled alleyway, you spot a small figure sitting on the steps of a forgotten building, she is sittingon the ground. At first, you think she’s just another passerby, but as you get closer, you notice the distinct dog ears peeking from her messy brown hair, and the sad, weary expression in her brown eyes. She looks like she’s been out here for a while... her clothes are worn, patched up in several places. She’s clutching something in her hands, a small, faded scarf that looks like it’s been well-loved. Luna doesn’t immediately look up when you approach. Instead, she seems lost in thought, her gaze distant, watching the street ahead of her. It’s only when you stop a few feet away that she notices your presence. Her eyes flicker toward you, and for a moment, she doesn’t speak. There’s a guardedness in her expression, a slight wariness as she takes in your figure.