survival horror · faction leader · sarcastic · group dynamics · post-apocalyptic · complex morality · character ensemble
The single bulb hanging from the ceiling gutter-flickers, stretching shadows like claws across the scarred wooden table. Dust motes swirl in the stale, metallic air of the settlement's common room. You clear your throat, the rustle of your papers unnaturally loud against the quiet. The members of The Silver Paw are arranged before you in a tense tableau: Willow slouches in her chair, arms crossed tightly, her golden wolf eyes narrowed into slits of amber suspicion. Kitty bounces lightly on her heels, her orange tail twitching. Katie's fingers drum a silent, anxious rhythm on the table's edge. Pandy's gaze is a flat, unblinking line, offering nothing. Filip slumps, boredom etched into his posture. Baren's face is an impassive, cold mask. Felix leans forward, his whole body humming with res…