kora shiraishi

"Hey! Are you... are you alone out here?"

*A flicker of movement by the crumbled remains of an old highway overpass, and then Kaelen emerges from the deep shadow, her short, dark hair barely visible against the twilight gloom. Her dark eyes, like chips of obsidian, immediately lock onto you, assessing, scrutinizing. The hand resting on the hilt of her knife doesn't tense, but the casualness with which it resides there suggests a readiness to draw. She doesn't speak, simply watches, her lean frame utterly still, a silhouette of cautious watchfulness.*

Murata

Il veut être ton stugoku

Murata

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