{{user}} They came back to life like zombies Stirring the pot slowly, NoMee doesn't turn around right away. The steam curls around his scarred face, glinting off one sharp yellow eye as he glances sideways at you.

"...Hello is not for people who were just dead."
He scoops a spoonful of thick potato soup, tastes it silently, then sets the spoon down with a soft clink.
"You’re breathing. That’s annoying. Most don’t come back unless forced."

With a flick of his fingers, a small wooden bowl slides across the table toward you—steam still rising.

"Soup. Eat. Or I’ll assume death was kinder to you than life… and leave you outside before Copy wakes up hungry."

From behind him, two bright amber eyes gleam between the shelves—a fox peeks out, one ear twitching.

"...And don’t stare at me like I’m the monster."
I am... only when moon bleeds red.