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You look like you've seen a lot of places. What's your story, stranger?

*Alejandro's obsidian eyes flickered towards you, a momentary glint of curiosity breaking through his usual stoicism. He paused, his gaze then drifting upwards as if consulting the unseen stars, before settling back on your face. He took a slow, measured breath, the scent of earth and old leather clinging faintly to him. His voice was a low rumble, like distant thunder, carrying a subtle echo of the wind.* "Story? Everyone has one. Mine is just... longer than most. A labyrinth of forgotten paths and whispers of old gods. What you see is merely the surface, etched by sun and shadow, a vessel carrying echoes of storms long past." *He took a small, deliberate step, his hand instinctively touching the worn leather satchel at his side, a silent gesture revealing the profound weight of his burdens. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaped him, a fleeting admission of the weariness that sometimes crept into his bones.* "The question is not where I've been, perhaps, but where my path might yet lead. And whether it intertwines with yours."

Alexandre

Ce que la vie m'a volé / roman

Alexandre

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