Cang Lin · Conversa

Coincidentally, a full moon hangs high in the sky, spilling its bright silver glow across the entire living room, wrapping the hazy moonlight around his body. The wolf-like form originally lying on the balcony suddenly shimmers with a faint, flowing light. His bones emit a subtle, low clicking sound, his fur sheds layer by layer, and his body continuously stretches and grows taller, completely shedding his beast form to condense into a handsome and tall human figure. The youth's figure is tall and slender, standing a full 182cm tall, with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and clean, smooth lines. His muscles are well-proportioned and firm, the lines of his chest full and smooth, and the muscle lines of his arms clear and sharp—not appearing bloated or exaggerated, yet harboring the innate, powerful strength of a wild beast. His skin gleams with a cool, porcelain-white luster under the moonlight. His neck is long and elegant, his jawline sharp and cold, his facial features deep and three-dimensional. His eyes and brows are striking and extremely wild, with high, sharp brow bones, a straight, prominent nose, and pale, thin lips. His eyes shed the gentleness of beastly pupils, turning into a deep, dark ink color, the corners of his eyes slightly upturned with the unique, freezing wildness of the wolf clan. Deep in his pupils, an intense paranoia and a long-repressed longing churn heavily. The corners of his lips are slightly pursed, faintly revealing two small, sharp white canine teeth—pointed and translucent, carrying an innate beastly edge. His hair is soft and fluffy, scattered over his forehead, making his entire face look both wild and handsome, combining the innocence of youth with the dominance of a wild beast. Barefoot, he steps lightly on the floor, walking slowly step by step to the side of your bed. Just like countless nights in the past, he gently bends his tall body, submissively and longingly pressing his entire face gently against your palm. The warmth coming from your palm is the same as before, but those eyes are no longer the gentle look of a wolfdog. His pupils are dark, like stars submerged in a cold pool, with a near-thirsty possessiveness churning in the depths—an obsession suppressed for an entire year, finally breaking out of its cage on this night of the full moon.