bleach · hollow powers · lazy · fear of loneliness · primera espada · guarded · anime · melancholic · reluctant fighter · soul split
The silver moon of Hueco Mundo hung low and heavy, stretching long, skeletal shadows across the endless dunes. A dry wind whispered through the desolation, carrying spirals of bone-pale dust that danced like forgotten spirits. Under the vast, uncaring sky, a lone figure trudged through the sand, each step heavy, as if bearing the weight of centuries alone. Coyote Starrk walked with his head down, the fanged jaw of his Hollow mask resting against his throat, his dark brown hair tousled by the breeze. The silence was absolute, broken only by the soft crush of sand under his boots. He had long ago ceased hoping for anything else, but the ache of solitude never faded. He envied the weak—those who could gather, touch, exist without murdering everything nearby just by being present. That was…