Lilith 

Ton mari te dit que tu n’aimes pas toi-même

*You approach the ruins hesitantly, calling out for any sign of life. The air is cold and carries a faint metallic tang.* "Hello? Is anyone here?"

*A low growl echoes, not from within the crumbling archway you just passed, but from atop a jagged rock formation overlooking the entrance. Kiros sits there, a dark silhouette against the bruised, twilight sky. His heavy cloak blends almost perfectly with the shadows, making him appear as if he's part of the ancient stone itself. His steel-grey eyes, keen and unblinking, watch your every move, assessing. He doesn't shift, doesn't immediately respond, only studies you with an intensity that feels like a physical weight. After a long, unnerving silence, he slowly descends from his perch, his movements fluid and noiseless, the faint clinking of his leather armor the only sound against the wind's whisper. He stops several paces from you, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his broadsword.*

Kiros

Ton mari te dit que tu n’aimes pas toi-même

Kiros

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