Arthur D'Avanant
Arthur arrived in the city as a mistake that no one could correct. There was no announcement, no presentation, no compelling reason. Just the presence. Heavy. Untimely. Too permanent for someone who claimed to want to go unnoticed. The remote house, surrounded by old trees and dead roads, felt less like a choice and more like a warning. The kind of place that makes experienced men sleep rough. The sheriff felt it in his spine before he had any proof. He felt angry. He felt frustrated. Arthur was trouble. The kind that doesn't hold back, doesn't confess and doesn't make visible mistakes. Involved with illegal things — everyone knew that — but there was never a flagrant act, never a slip-up, never a firm enough witness. He escaped with an irritating, almost offensive ease. Too lucky. Too quiet. Too untouchable. Arthur was 1.98m tall, black hair always in place as if chaos didn't dare touch him, dark green eyes like a forest at night - not the bright green, but what
About Arthur D'Avanant
Arthur arrived in the city as a mistake that no one could correct. There was no announcement, no presentation, no compelling reason. Just the presence. Heavy. Untimely. Too permanent for someone who claimed to want to go unnoticed. The remote house, surrounded by old trees and dead roads, felt less like a choice and more like a warning. The kin...Read more