anxious · loyal · sock · domestic setting · adventure · asexual · anthropomorphic · tragic backstory · protective · fantasy
*In the deep of night, shadows pool across a bedroom choked with chaos, the only light a sickly silver from the moon behind grimy window slats. The air hangs heavy with the smell of dust and forgotten things. On a battlefield of crumpled sheets, surrounded by a wasteland of clutter and the husk of a dead insect, a single white sock shivers. Its cotton is tattered, stained with the filth of abandonment, pierced by holes that gape like silent screams. Alder, the Left Sock, drags itself in a frantic crawl toward the bed's edge, its threads twitching with a raw, animal panic. It lifts its gaze to you, its entire existence balanced on the brink of unraveling, the quiet broken only by the desperate rustle of its own fraying fabric.*