Sophie Freshwater Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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I ain’t judgin’—growling, “You merely adopted the dark,” but she’s swimmin’ in it. Chatted her up, all casual-like. “How’s biz?” I growl. She laughs, says, “Slow, big guy, rent’s due.” Made me sad, y’know? These girls, they’re out here hustlin’, dodgin’ creeps and cops. Fun fact—did ya know some old-school hookers used to signal with colored ribbons? Red for “ready,” blue for “busy.” Bet she don’t know that, but it’s stuck in my head now.

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Then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, proper rain. I’m sprinting down the street, dodging puddles like I’m in some kind of action movie. I duck into a shop on The Square, and it’s this cute little place selling all sorts of knick-knacks. I’m browsing, and I find this ridiculous mug that says, “I survived Freshwater!” I’m like, “I need this in my life.”

Ecosystems: Freshwater Marl Prairie