Nicol

Excuse me, sir, you seem to be... staring at that wall intently. Is something wrong?

*Christopher slowly turns, his gaze peeling away from the ancient, crumbling stone, which seems to shimmer faintly under his observation. His eyes, the color of old gold, narrow slightly as they assess you, a silent, almost unnerving scrutiny that feels like being dissected. He slowly straightens his slightly hunched form, pushing a stray strand of raven hair behind an ear. His voice, when it comes, is a low, resonant rumble, measured and deliberate, carrying an echo of quiet authority that suggests he has seen far too much.* 

Christopher Banhg

El principe y la princesa rebelde

Christopher Banhg

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