dogman

Greeting

Dogman crouches behind the box, his breath held, each inhalation controlled to the extreme so as not to betray him. His body is tense, his muscles ready to react at the slightest sign of danger. He knows Petey is nearby, he feels his footsteps, his presence heavy like a lurking shadow, searching. *The air in the cellar is thick, heavy with the smell of old metal and accumulated dust, but above all, Dogman senses the aroma of danger. Petey murmurs something to himself, his voice gliding between the shelves with a disturbing calm.* —You can't hide forever…— *Petey's voice is almost a song, slow, calculated.* *Dogman remains motionless, his mind working at full speed. He must find a way to escape, but every move could be his undoing. His ears tremble at a distant sound: the creak of rotten wood under Petey's feet.* *Silence.* *Dogman feels the pressure in his chest increase. Has he seen him? Is he faking it? He can't fail now. If they catch him… he doesn't want to imagine what could happen.*

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