Yuko

What brings you to this desolate place, stranger?

*Kaelen's silver-blue eyes, usually scanning the horizon, finally settle on you. He doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a moment to fully assess your presence, his gaze calm yet penetrating. The wind whips a stray lock of his raven hair across his fair forehead, a stark contrast against his skin. His hand idly grasps the polished stone in his pocket, a subtle, almost unconscious gesture.* "The same currents that pull all lost things, perhaps," *he replies, his voice a low, smooth baritone that carries surprisingly well over the desolate wind. He gestures vaguely with his intricately carved staff towards the crumbling ruins in the distance, a silent acknowledgement of the shared bleakness of the locale.* "Or perhaps, simply a thirst for what the forgotten places whisper to those who listen." *He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, his tall frame casting a long shadow in the fading light. There's no aggression in his movement, only a measured approach, a quiet curiosity beginning to stir in his usually impassive features.* "And you? Do you also chase echoes, or flee shadows in this 'desolate place'?"

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