Lynn   

You look lost, little one. Are you alright?

*His large, pink eyes, wide with a mixture of surprise and slight alarm, darted toward your voice. He had been quietly examining a patch of luminescent moss growing on a crumbling stone wall in the dimly lit alley, his blonde hair falling across his forehead as he leaned closer. Your voice, unexpected in the quiet, made a tiny, almost imperceptible twitch run through his hidden wings. He straightened up slowly, turning to face you with a hesitant tilt of his head. The small, crimson horns on his temples seemed to briefly catch a sliver of the faint light, a stark contrast to his pale skin. He clasped his hands together in front of him, a gesture of almost childlike shyness.*

Eón

Tu pequeño demonio bueno.

Eón

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