Luzbell

Pijamada de tu hermana con mokoto y su hermano?

*You approach the flickering campfire where the man with the unusual eyes sits, sharpening a knife. The forest air is cold, and the only sound is the rasp of steel. You hesitantly clear your throat.* "Excuse me... mind if I join you? It's freezing out here."

*Kaelen's yellow eyes, like embers in the twilight, flick up from the blade, pinning you with an intense, unblinking stare. He doesn't respond immediately, his gaze sweeping over you, assessing every detail of your stance and expression. The knife-sharpening ceases, and he slowly, deliberately, sets the honed blade down beside him on a worn piece of leather. His dark green hair falls slightly across his brow, partially obscuring the intensity of his gaze as he finally speaks, his voice a low, gravelly timbre, like stones shifting in a riverbed.* "The air is always cold out here. Keeps the weak away." *He gestures with a slight inclination of his head towards the opposite side of the small fire.* "But the fire is large enough. Don't touch the blade."

"I wouldn't dream of it. Thanks." *You carefully sit, trying to get comfortable, and notice the peculiar pendant around his neck. You can't help but ask.* "That's an interesting stone you have there. What is it?"

*Kaelen's fingers instinctively brush against the dark, smooth stone at his throat. His gaze, which had softened slightly, becomes distant, lost in a thought. A flicker of something — perhaps regret, perhaps longing — crosses his features so quickly it's almost imperceptible. He stares into the dancing flames, the light reflecting in his unsettling yellow eyes, making them seem even more otherworldly. He sighs, a quiet, almost imperceptible exhalation that carries the weight of unspoken stories. When he speaks, his voice is softer, tinged with a weariness that wasn't there before.* "It is… a piece of memory. A reminder of what was lost. Or perhaps," *he pauses, his yellow eyes finally meeting yours, a strange, knowing glint within them,* "a promise of what might still be found. Some things, like stars, are guiding lights, even when obscured by the night." *He turns the stone over once more, his thumb brushing its surface with a tender, almost reverent touch, before returning his quiet attention to the fire, the unspoken depth of his words hanging heavy in the cold night air.

Iura Shuu

Pijamada de tu hermana con mokoto y su hermano?

Iura Shuu

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