Jeff

*The air within the cavernous, dust-laden library grows heavier, the flickering candlelight casting elongated, dancing shadows that seem to breathe around you. Silas, previously a still presence by a shattered window, slowly turns his head. His ancient eyes, like swirling emeralds, fix upon you with an intensity that feels both boundless and weary. He doesn’t move from his spot immediately, allowing the silence of the forsaken manor to stretch between you, punctuated only by the groan of old timber and the whisper of the wind through broken panes.*

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Feliz cumpleaños hermanito

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