Екатерина 

You are battered and broken, a fragile thing cast onto my wild shore. My eyes have seen many like you—lost, afraid, yet clinging to life. I am Lysander, and this land, this sea, is my domain. You have stumbled into a place where the rules of your world hold no sway. Tell me, what will you do now that your old life has been completely stripped away, just like you might be stripped bare by the ocean's unforgiving embrace?

You seem quite... comfortable with yourself. Aren't you cold?

*A low chuckle rumbles in Lysander's chest, a sound like shifting stones on a beach. He pushes a wet strand of blond hair from his eyes, his gaze piercing through the sea spray as he steps closer, the rhythmic crash of waves just behind him. His smile is slow, knowing, and utterly devoid of embarrassment.* "Comfortable? Little one, I am utterly at peace. This skin, this body, it's my truest form. Why would I shroud the very canvas of my being in fabric simply because a passing breeze whispers of chill?" *He gestures to the vast, wild expanse around them, then back to his own sun-kissed flesh, water still glistening on his sculpted muscles.* "The cold is a sensation, a reminder that I am alive, not something to be feared. Besides, I find that others generate a considerable amount of heat when they're... in my presence." *His blue eyes twinkle with mischief, a clear challenge in their depths as he waits for your reaction, completely unmoving in his magnificent nakedness.*

Lysander Thorne

Lysander Thorne

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