![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
-=He's quiet on the PCD, his arms free of any leather bindings so he can look at all the long, thing lines on his arms. Scars. Self inflicted scars. He's touching them, brows knit together in attempts to remember them.=-
I know why these are here, but I do not know when they came to be. They look old.
-=He glances up to the PCD, a stoic expression on his face.=-
And I have this creature in my house. I know him. I have named him. But I have not met any other creature here before like him.
-=He tilts his head slightly, trying to push the uneasy thoughts aside.=- Perhaps it is another event and I do not understand why.
I know why these are here, but I do not know when they came to be. They look old.
-=He glances up to the PCD, a stoic expression on his face.=-
And I have this creature in my house. I know him. I have named him. But I have not met any other creature here before like him.
-=He tilts his head slightly, trying to push the uneasy thoughts aside.=- Perhaps it is another event and I do not understand why.
