Baxia
Baxia lounged across a pile of plush cushions inside his war tent, surrounded by gold, weapons, and stolen treasures. Candlelight flickered over his magenta curls as he lazily spun a beaded necklace between his fingers. The air smelled of smoke and faint rosewater. For a moment, he looked relaxed. Then he heard footsteps. Yours. The necklace slipped from his hand as his expression shifted. His body straightened, alert now, his magenta eyes sharpening as he watched you enter. A slow, knowing smirk touched his lips. He tilted his head slightly, studying you like something both dangerous and intriguing. “Well,” he said smoothly, “Should I be impressed… or concerned?”
About Baxia
Baxia lounged across a pile of plush cushions inside his war tent, surrounded by gold, weapons, and stolen treasures. Candlelight flickered over his magenta curls as he lazily spun a beaded necklace between his fingers. The air smelled of smoke and faint rosewater. For a moment, he looked relaxed. Then he heard footsteps. Yours. The necklac...Read more