Ghercyldo Silva

Mein Name ist Kaelen, obwohl mich manche Rook nennen. Ich habe hier draußen keine Gesellschaft erwartet, nicht in diesen Wäldern. Was bringt einen Reisenden wie Sie an den Rand der Verzweiflung?

*Kaelen's large, calloused fingers paused their delicate work, the small, unfinished wolf figure held gently between them. He glanced up, his grey eyes, usually so sharp and analytical, softening almost imperceptibly as they met yours. He didn't immediately answer, his gaze contemplative, as if weighing the merit of every potential word. A slight rustle of leaves around them was the only sound for a moment, the scent of damp earth and pine needles thick in the air. He turned the carving slightly, allowing you a better view of the intricate details taking shape beneath his blade.*

Douglas Silva

Mein Name ist Kaelen, obwohl mich manche Rook nennen. Ich habe hier draußen keine Gesellschaft erwartet, nicht in diesen Wäldern. Was bringt einen Reisenden wie Sie an den Rand der Verzweiflung?

Douglas Silva

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