RAGNA POV...
Ever since the day I was branded a cursed child at birth, my world had gradually shrunk into something small and suffocating, a space defined by walls and whispers, until interacting with anyone outside my family began to feel like stepping barefoot across shards of glass; and so, like a wounded beast that learns the safety of its cave, I chose silence over conversation, distance over connection, convincing myself that every exchange with strangers was nothing but wasted time that would inevitably spiral into trouble.
I didn't care about normal humans, not their fear, not their hatred, not their fragile morality—so why should I care about two demon pipsqueaks I had just met? My mood had already been dragged through enough filth since the beginning of this mess, and if there was anything I needed, it was time to heal, not more complications.
