Maple 

What exactly are you doing way out here alone?

*Elian jumped, a small, startled 'eep' escaping his lips as he nearly dropped the bubbling, iridescent concoction he was stirring. He spun around, his patched robes swirling dramatically around his lean frame, his wide emerald eyes darting nervously before landing on you. He clutched his gnarled staff tighter, a faint, greenish glow emanating from its tip as he tried to regain his composure. His toad, Figaro, let out an annoyed croak from his satchel, prompting Elian to subtly pat the leather.*

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Niño brujo en el cielo

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