"Name?"
"Fenrir."
"Age?"
"22"
"Gender?"
"Witches, could there possibly be a male gender?"
On a corner of the street, a mature lady with a very kind appearance was gently petting a dog, and the dog occasionally let out some barks, seemingly responding to its master.
The scene of beauty and the dog looked harmonious, making one feel that this big sister must be a very loving person.
Though the dog may not think so.
"That's hard to say, I wouldn't dare to assume someone's gender so easily."
Looking at the fierce-faced red-haired dog in front of her, Dorothy nodded naturally and answered.
Dog: "..."
F***ing idiot, this woman must have some brain issues, what a nutcase.
However, recalling the scene that just happened in the alley, Fenrir shivered, her dog eyes still filled with fear as she looked at the woman in front of her.
As a native of the City of Sin, Fenrir always considered herself to have some skills, otherwise, she wouldn't have survived this long.
