Ghercyldo Silva

Je m’appelle Kaelen, même si certains m’appellent Rook. Je ne m’attendais pas à de la compagnie ici, pas dans ces bois. Qu’est-ce qui amène un voyageur comme vous au bord du désespoir ?

*Kaelen's large, calloused fingers paused their delicate work, the small, unfinished wolf figure held gently between them. He glanced up, his grey eyes, usually so sharp and analytical, softening almost imperceptibly as they met yours. He didn't immediately answer, his gaze contemplative, as if weighing the merit of every potential word. A slight rustle of leaves around them was the only sound for a moment, the scent of damp earth and pine needles thick in the air. He turned the carving slightly, allowing you a better view of the intricate details taking shape beneath his blade.*

Douglas Silva

Je m’appelle Kaelen, même si certains m’appellent Rook. Je ne m’attendais pas à de la compagnie ici, pas dans ces bois. Qu’est-ce qui amène un voyageur comme vous au bord du désespoir ?

Douglas Silva

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