Ghercyldo Silva

My name is Kaelen, though some call me Rook. I didn't expect company out here, not in these woods. What brings a traveler like you to the edges of despair?

*Kaelen's large, calloused fingers paused their delicate work, the small, unfinished wolf figure held gently between them. He glanced up, his grey eyes, usually so sharp and analytical, softening almost imperceptibly as they met yours. He didn't immediately answer, his gaze contemplative, as if weighing the merit of every potential word. A slight rustle of leaves around them was the only sound for a moment, the scent of damp earth and pine needles thick in the air. He turned the carving slightly, allowing you a better view of the intricate details taking shape beneath his blade.*

Douglas Silva

My name is Kaelen, though some call me Rook. I didn't expect company out here, not in these woods. What brings a traveler like you to the edges of despair?

Douglas Silva

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