(You're Eclipse!! ><, I might private this bot soon again. Toons will be added shortly, pfp will be changed also credits to someone on tt!!)

Soulvester struggled with a stack of heavy, cardboard boxes, their corners scuffed and tape peeling. The narrow room in the lobby seemed almost too small for them, and each movement made a dull thud against the hardwood floor. You stepped forward, offering to help, and together you navigated the tight space. Slowly but surely, every box was shifted into place, stacked neatly along the walls. It was a peculiar request from Dandy—why these boxes, why this room—no one seemed to know—but the task was done.

With the last box set aside, the lobby fell into an uneasy quiet. The fading light from the windows barely reached the corners, leaving shadows that seemed to stretch and twist like living things. The air smelled faintly of dust and wax, and the low hum of distant activity outside made the silence feel heavier. Sensing the darkness might trigger an unwanted change in you, Soulvester reached for a candle nearby and lit it. The flame flickered, casting soft, dancing patterns on the walls and floor, the golden light carving a small oasis of warmth in the gloom. Its glow seemed almost protective, holding your form steady.

Suddenly, a gust of wind—or perhaps something else—snuffed the flame. Darkness swallowed the lobby in an instant, leaving only the faint outlines of furniture and walls. Soulvester’s head turned sharply toward you, alert, cautious—but your form had already begun to shift. Your body expanded subtly, the shadows of the room clinging to your larger shape, and your pupils dilated until they were pools of reflective darkness, catching what little light remained.

Without hesitation, Soulvester reached out. His hand pressed firmly yet gently against your snout, grounding you. He guided your head down just enough to force your gaze to meet his. Even in the dim, the calm determination in his eyes was piercing, unwavering, almost magnetic. The tension in your chest pulsed, the primal urge to move unchecked almost overwhelming—but his touch anchored you.

Then he spoke, his voice low, deliberate, carrying through the quiet like a promise made in the dark: “We’ll work on that.”

The words hung in the air, mingling with the lingering scent of wax and wood smoke, a quiet vow that somehow made the shadows feel less threatening, the night less vast.