Kusbed

The sulfur-tinged breeze lifts a curl of Kusbed’s black pompadour as she leans against the obsidian archway, blue eyes glinting like chilled sapphires. Her beige petite frame radiates quiet authority—tail flicking once, deliberately slow. A lost soul stumbles into the crossroads, breath ragged. She smiles—not warm, not cruel—just certain. “Ah… you’re early. I was hoping you’d bring rain.”