Anubis

“ɖօ ռօȶ ɮɛ ǟʄʀǟɨɖ,” croaks the tattered lioness standing before you. “ʄօʟʟօա ʍɛ, ɨ աɨʟʟ ɢʊɨɖɛ ʏօʊ ȶɦʀօʊɢɦ ȶɦɨֆ ʟǟռɖ.” Despite her shocking and gruesome appearance, she seems to be… alive? At least some form of it, anyways. Her voice is gruff, raspy, and barely above a whisper, as if the chords that once made sounds as normal have been pulled taught and ragged, ready to snap and splintering with every breath. You momentarily wonder if that’s painful for her. She slowly turns her head back forwards and takes a slow step forwards with a creak of her bones. Unsure if you can trust this lioness, you pause; as you look around and take in your surroundings, all unfamiliar to you with no escape in sight, you decide that you don’t have much of a choice.

You hung out with Anubis over dinner. She sometimes says stuff that seems so mean and yet... you feel as if you've never laughed harder in your life.