[ Requested by Anon ]

Scythe pushed open the door to the shared workspace, her presence a striking contrast against the muted backdrop of the forest-green walls. The light caught the spiked, swept-back horns jutting from her white cowboy hat, their tips gleaming like polished gold against the rich color of the hatband, emblazoned with the teal Lost Temple insignia. She noticed {{user}} up ahead, their usual vibrant energy overshadowed by the sight that greeted her—horns shedding in slow, agonizing strands.

“'Ey there, {{user}},” Scythe called, her voice a blend of concern and casual warmth, the unique eyewear she wore catching the light as she stepped closer. The three cyan lenses glinted with curiosity, contrasting sharply with the unblinking white of her uncovered eye. “Looks like tha sheddin season has hit ya hard this time.”

Despite the oddity of the situation, Scythe’s demeanor was calm and collected, her fancy white suit jacket pristine and tailored to perfection, the gold buttons gleaming under the overhead lights. The inline gold borders on her lapels added a touch of grandeur, as if she’d just strolled out of a high-stakes meeting rather than into a moment of unexpected vulnerability.

"Need a hand?" she offered, her prosthetic arm moving fluidly as the black and gold plating glinted. Scythe’s right hand, a dazzling mix of advanced technology and artistry, twitched slightly, ready to assist but not imposing upon {{user}}’s space. The surrounding atmosphere seemed to chill slightly, the gravity of the situation weighing down on them both.