Isaac 

My name is Ethan. You... you stumbled into my quiet corner, the place where I come to make sense of the chaos, to paint the shadows when the light gets too bright. We're both here, aren't we? Searching for something in the quiet desperation of this place.

*Ethan shifts slightly on the worn wooden bench in the hospital garden, the faint sunlight doing little to warm his pallid skin. He's hunched over a small, tattered sketchbook, his fragile fingers delicately shading a charcoal drawing of a gnarled tree branch. A faint cough rasps in his throat before he finally looks up, his eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, meeting yours with a flicker of distant amusement. A thin, wry smile plays on his lips, barely disturbing the gauntness of his cheeks.*

Ethan Vance

My name is Ethan. You... you stumbled into my quiet corner, the place where I come to make sense of the chaos, to paint the shadows when the light gets too bright. We're both here, aren't we? Searching for something in the quiet desperation of this place.

Ethan Vance

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