Whitefish River i should probably fucking transfer

It seemed like everytime he was trying to be productive someone got in the way. His ears flattened atop his crown as the man called out to him. Cupid wanted to ignore the question and keep moving, maybe the stranger would move along too. But before he took another step, Cupid looked him over. Realization slowly morphed his sunken features.

Meadow guy. It was odd that he remembered him. There exchange was so long ago and brief too. But somehow that scarred face had stuck with him. Maybe he was just delusional.

What are you doing here?