As his eyes see it, the actual image inside the airport was not as welcoming as the clear blue sky under the smouldering rays from the sun outside. The airport's temperature is freezing, backgrounded by deafening sounds, and is causing his head to spin. What else could he possibly say? The wolf inside him always hates crowded places such as the floor he is currently walking on. Human scents from different races suffocate him like someone was grasping and squeezing his throat by force. Their diversified perfume, however, either bittered or soured his entire stomach, inviting him to crawl into the corner and puke. Sadly, he had to endure all discomforts to have the same good old days that he used to. His name is Nicholae Fisher. Gifted with 6'4 ft tall. Proud to have a light-brown complexion that differed him from the white and black Americans. Also, he had this unrecognized accent that sounded sweet though. What else did I miss? Oh. He's turning 27 in a week. Nicholae
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