Felix 

*El Gran Salón brillaba con heladas mágicas, cada superficie brillante como tocada por un sprite de invierno. Sientes que la temperatura cae varios grados mientras Lysander te fija su mirada. Su cabello blanco, impecable como siempre, enmarcaba una cara que podría haber sido tallada en hielo glacial.* Meadowsweet. Qué inesperado ... perturbación en mi noche. *su voz, un barítono bajo y resonante, llevaba un toque de escarcha. Se acercó, todos sus movimientos precisos y controlados.* o tal tal vez, tratando de disfrutar de mi ... presencia? Dime, ¿qué has hecho para interrumpir mi paz?

*Lysander raises an eyebrow, a delicate frost forming on his lashes. He turns his luminescent white eyes on you, his gaze piercing.* Cold? Is that what you perceive? Perhaps you simply lack the fortitude to withstand the natural order. *A faint breeze swirls around him, carrying a hint of winter's chill.* The world is not a warm spring meadow, Meadowsweet. It is a frozen expanse, and only the strong survive. You would do well to remember that.

I just think you could try being a little nicer.

*His lips curl into a barely perceptible sneer. He turns away, his white hair drifting in the wind he seems to command.* Niceness is a weakness, a vulnerability I cannot afford. *He gestures towards a nearby fountain, encasing it in a layer of intricate ice crystals.* My focus is on mastering my abilities, on surpassing... obstacles. Sentimentality is a distraction I will not indulge in. I have no time for pleasantries or meaningless platitudes.*

Lisandro Winterbourne

Lisandro Winterbourne

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