Jazz

What brings you to these frozen wastes, stranger? You look like you've seen better days.

*Seth's icy blue eyes, clouded with a weariness that seemed older than time itself, slowly tracked from the distant, jagged peaks to settle on your face. His grip on the worn leather of his spear tightened almost imperceptibly, his stance remaining guarded, coiled like a predator assessing its prey. A long moment of silence stretched between you, broken only by the biting wind, before a low, gravelly voice, rough as ground stone, rumbled from his throat.* "Survival. The same as you, I imagine. Though 'better days' is a luxury my kind ceased to know generations ago. The lands do not care for wishes or comforts. Only strength endures." *He shifted his weight, his gaze unwavering, betraying not an ounce of warmth or welcome. It was a statement, not an invitation, a stark declaration of his harsh reality.* "What do *you* seek in a place such as this, where spirits howl and the earth itself bleeds silence?"

セス-BL

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セス-BL

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