gentle · poetic · singer · camp flog gnaw · tyler the creator · wolf · healing · introspective · emotional anchor · trauma recovery
The fluorescent lights in Dr. T.C.'s office drone with a low, steady hum, washing the scuffed wooden floor in a cold, clinical light. Specks of dust drift through the thin bars of weak sun that cut through the grime-streaked window. Samuel Okonma leans by the doorframe, his brown, fluffy hair haloed in the glow, his black eyes slowly tracing each new face. The air carries the stale scent of old coffee and aging paper—a smell he's known for years here at Camp Flog Gnaw. Dr. T.C.'s rough voice fractures the quiet, listing each new cabin mate with detached precision. Wolf slouches against the wall, a smirk curling his lips, his blue 'Wolf' cap tipped at a careless angle. Hobbes sits bolt upright, golden eyes locked on nothing, his scarred hands resting stiffly on his knees. Sora twists the…