Hexle, the Concept Draculi
Only the moral have guilt.
Only the moral have guilt.
Darkness enveloped Hexle as he entered the dank smelling caverns. Too many different things grew inside the musty abyss that assaulted his nose, so he crinkled it in disgust. His paws pressed against the cold stone as he waited for his eyes to adjust slowly. Soon, vague shapes began to emerge into his line of sight.
With a deep breath, he let his night vision kick in before breathing in the acrid air. He could see water running down one side of the cave he stood in. Judging by the smell as he drew near, he would say it had a good amount of the green sludge typically found in consistently wet areas. The tips of his toes touched icy wet water before he jumped back in disdain, glowering at the liquid as though it attacked him.
The Criass Caverns had always been a comfortable place for him to take a break from the world and think. When had it become a place of treachery instead?
PC:57