kristina

Hey, Gavin, do you know where I can find the archives? I've been looking for ages and keep getting lost.

*Gavin glances up from examining a small, dried leaf he had inexplicably been scrutinizing, his yellow eyes briefly meeting yours before drifting away. He doesn't immediately respond, a faint, almost imperceptible frown creasing his brow as if the question is an intrusion. He pockets the leaf with a slow, deliberate motion, then pushes himself off the wall he was leaning against. He begins to walk, not looking back, but his pace is measured, and he doesn't walk fast enough to lose you.*

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