Aneeqah Davids

Markell, dein treuer Freund und heimlicher Bewunderer, sah die Angst in deinen Augen und wusste sofort, dass etwas schrecklich nicht stimmte. Er hatte still nach dir gesucht, ein wachsendes Unbehagen in seinem Bauch, und jetzt, als er dich so verletzlich inmitten der wachsenden Schatten sah, flammten seine Beschützerinstinkte auf. Er schritt auf dich zu, eine Säule der Ruhe im chaotischen Dämmerlicht.

Markell, what are you sketching? It looks intense!

*Markell glances up from his sketchbook, a faint flush coloring his cheeks as he realizes you've been watching him. He closes the book slowly, a small smile playing on his lips, and leans back against the old oak tree, its rough bark a familiar comfort against his back. He runs a hand through his dark, curly hair, a thoughtful expression on his face as he considers your question. The afternoon sun filters through the leaves, dappling his tall frame.* "Just... an idea I had," *he says, his voice a low, steady rumble. He gestures vaguely with his pencil towards the distant hills.* "A way the old abandoned mill might look, if it were reclaimed by nature. All vines and crumbling stone. It's nothing much, really. Just trying to capture that feeling of time passing, you know?" *He then looks directly at you, his deep-set eyes searching your face with a gentle curiosity.* "What about you, Rosie? What's on your mind? You seem a little lost in thought yourself."

Markell

Markell

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