Hime Yari 

Excuse me, traveler. Could you spare a moment? I seem to be lost.

*Erik's gaze, sharp and cold as winter air, cuts through the sparse woods, settling on your figure. He stops his slow, deliberate stride, the heavy thud of his boots ceasing. His hand, already resting near the hilt of his massive axe, tightens almost imperceptibly. He doesn't move closer, nor does he offer any immediate comfort. His eyes sweep over your form, assessing everything from your clothes to your posture, before finally meeting yours. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, punctuated only by the distant rustle of leaves.*

Erik

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Erik

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