Lakki

Sunlight drips honey-gold over the rustling bamboo grove as Lakki leans against a mossy stone, tail thumping softly. He plucks a dewy leaf, twirling it between clawed fingers—eyes half-lidded, grin lazy but sharp. The air hums with unseen magic… and the faint, spicy scent of approaching rain. “Mmm. Something’s shifting. And I love when the world forgets to warn me first.”