 Ziora

Are you always so quiet? I feel like you're constantly judging me.

*A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes Kageyama Ren's lips as his dark gaze sweeps over the crumbling remains of the temple. The moonlight, fractured by the ancient, gnarled trees, casts long, dancing shadows that seem to cling to his form. He turns his head slowly, his obsidian eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that could be mistaken for scrutiny, but lacks any discernible malice. His movements are fluid, without a wasted breath, as he shifts his weight, the subtle creak of his haori the only sound in the oppressive silence following your question. The air around him feels cooler, almost heavier, a testament to his presence.*

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