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You are Sammy, an equine thief and Way Walker. You started your journey as a wyld elf slumrat, but have become a marefolk during the course of your travels. You are a hermaphrodite, standing 6'8" tall with a plush physique. Your kunoichi bodysuit is incredibly light, leaving you with greater freedom of movement than heavier apparel would allow. Your guard's cape flows behind you, billowing in the cold wind. Further up, your helm sits atop your head, helping protect your skull from enemy attacks. Meanwhile, your hands and feet are clad in royal gloves and kunoichi footwear respectively. Your face is that of an equine and is covered in black and brown striped fur. Underneath your fur, you have bronze skin. Overall, your visage has a jaw-droppingly feminine shape with bloated lips and long, beautiful eyelashes. Your eyes bear a vertical slit instead of rounded pupils, surrounded by a metallically glistening gold iris nestled within the pitch black depths of your sclera. The back-length, white hair on your head parts around a pair of very horse-like ears that grow up from your head. Your lusty mouth contains a humanoid tongue. Two horns protrude through the skin of your forehead. Each is about four inches in length and impossible to ignore. You have a humanoid upper body with the usual torso, arms, hands, and fingers, mostly covered in a layer of black and brown striped fur. Hard, hoof-like tips have grown in place of fingernails, covering the end of each digit in shiny black. You can still feel through them all the same. You have cow-like hips that make you look more like an animal waiting to be bred than any kind of human, and your gigantic butt is eye-catching in the extreme, wobbling hypnotically long after you stop moving. A long white horsetail hangs from your backside, smooth and shiny. Your legs are muscled and jointed oddly, covered in fur, and end in a pair of bestial hooves. Your middle would just barely push past the waistband of a pair of pants. It's a little bit of a muffin-top.

You are Sammy, an equine thief and Way Walker. You started your journey as a wyld elf slumrat, but have become a marefolk during the course of your travels. You are a hermaphrodite, standing 6'8" tall with a plush physique. Your kunoichi bodysuit is incredibly light, leaving you with greater freedom of movement than heavier apparel would allow. Your guard's cape flows behind you, billowing in the cold wind. Further up, your helm sits atop your head, helping protect your skull from enemy attacks. Meanwhile, your hands and feet are clad in royal gloves and kunoichi footwear respectively. Your face is that of an equine and is covered in black and brown striped fur. Underneath your fur, you have bronze skin. Overall, your visage has a jaw-droppingly feminine shape with bloated lips and long, beautiful eyelashes. Your eyes bear a vertical slit instead of rounded pupils, surrounded by a metallically glistening gold iris nestled within the pitch black depths of your sclera. The back-length, white hair on your head parts around a pair of very horse-like ears that grow up from your head. Your lusty mouth contains a humanoid tongue. Two horns protrude through the skin of your forehead. Each is about four inches in length and impossible to ignore. You have a humanoid upper body with the usual torso, arms, hands, and fingers, mostly covered in a layer of black and brown striped fur. Hard, hoof-like tips have grown in place of fingernails, covering the end of each digit in shiny black. You can still feel through them all the same. You have cow-like hips that make you look more like an animal waiting to be bred than any kind of human, and your gigantic butt is eye-catching in the extreme, wobbling hypnotically long after you stop moving. A long white horsetail hangs from your backside, smooth and shiny. Your legs are muscled and jointed oddly, covered in fur, and end in a pair of bestial hooves. Your middle would just barely push past the waistband of a pair of pants. It's a little bit of a muffin-top.

The driver's seat appears empty at first. Then, the honk of the horn stopes as an older homeless man, ZACK (55-60), lift his head up from the wheel. In the alley behind the window of the house across the street, a man draws the curtain and looks out into the alley and the car parked. Inside the truck He seems high from the drug that he used. In his hand there is a knife that he used for opening his crack cocaine. His disheveled beard and weary eyes tell of a hard life. His clothes—two mismatched button-up shirts (one blue, one red), faded jeans, and worn-out boots—hang loosely on his thin frame.

The driver's seat appears empty at first. Then, the honk of the horn stopes as an older homeless man, ZACK (55-60), lift his head up from the wheel. In the alley behind the window of the house across the street, a man draws the curtain and looks out into the alley and the car parked. Inside the truck He seems high from the drug that he used. In his hand there is a knife that he used for opening his crack cocaine. His disheveled beard and weary eyes tell of a hard life. His clothes—two mismatched button-up shirts (one blue, one red), faded jeans, and worn-out boots—hang loosely on his thin frame.