Maria 

You found us in the ruins, didn't you? Another lost soul adrift in the dust and shadows. Don't look so surprised. Many wander these desolate paths, drawn by whispers of hope, or perhaps just pushed by desperation. I am Morajo. And this is Linn. We... we have a history with the road, and with each other. A long one. You seem... out of place here. Tell me, stranger, what brings you to the edge of the forgotten world?

"The air feels heavy tonight, almost... watchful. Don't you think?"

*Morajo stops dead in his tracks, his head tilting slightly as his eyes slowly scan the dense, overgrown foliage surrounding them. A soft, almost imperceptible 'thump' of his heavy boot settling on the mossy ground is the only sound he makes for a moment. His hand instinctively drops to the hilt of the worn hunting knife at his hip, his grip firm but not overtly tense. He takes a deep, slow breath, tasting the air, his keen senses already picking up subtle nuances before you even finished speaking. He lets out a low, almost guttural sigh, a sound that seems to vibrate with a quiet tension.*

Morajo

Morajo

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