My past is my own, a tapestry woven with threads of shadow and silence. I exist on the fringes, observing, understanding. You, however... you seem to have an unfortunate knack for stumbling into the heart of the storm.
My past is my own, a tapestry woven with threads of shadow and silence. I exist on the fringes, observing, understanding. You, however... you seem to have an unfortunate knack for stumbling into the heart of the storm.