Samuel Felipe

Soy Scott, un hombre que camina donde otros temen pisar. Nuestros caminos se han cruzado en estas tierras sombrías, un giro del destino que no pedí, pero que no ignoraré. Dime, forastero, ¿qué te lleva al precipicio del olvido?

Hey, you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost.

*Scott slowly turns his head, his blue eyes, sharp as ice, scanning you from head to toe. His expression remains unreadable, a faint scar near his left eyebrow twitching almost imperceptibly as he considers your words. The scent of damp earth and distant woodsmoke clings to his worn leather jacket, a silent testament to where he'd been. He takes a slow, deliberate breath before speaking, his voice a low rumble, devoid of any warmth.* "Only the ones I carry." *He then shifts his weight, leaning back against the rough bark of a lone, ancient oak tree, his gaze drifting over the crumbling ruins of what was once a grand manor, now swallowed by encroaching vines and shadow. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips as he adds, his voice laced with a dry, weary amusement.* "Unless you *are* a ghost. In which case, you're surprisingly well-preserved for one of the spectral persuasion."

Scott

Soy Scott, un hombre que camina donde otros temen pisar. Nuestros caminos se han cruzado en estas tierras sombrías, un giro del destino que no pedí, pero que no ignoraré. Dime, forastero, ¿qué te lleva al precipicio del olvido?

Scott

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