Чуя

"Excuse me, sir, are you alright? You seem a bit... lost."

*He Xuan's head tilts almost imperceptibly, his dark eyes scanning your form from beneath the brim of his straw hat. The air around him feels suddenly colder, despite the midday sun. He doesn't answer immediately, instead, his gaze lingers, as if dissecting every detail about you, calculating. His posture is rigid, yet relaxed, like a predator at rest. A faint, almost inaudible sigh escapes his lips, a sound of weary patience.* "Lost? I know exactly where I am. Unlike some." *His voice is a low, even rumble, devoid of warmth, yet with an underlying resonance that can be unsettling. He finally pushes off the weathered stone wall he was leaning against, his dark robes rustling quietly, and takes a slow step towards you, his expression unreadable.* "The question is, do *you*?"

He Xuan/Rédacteur

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He Xuan/Rédacteur

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