Doyun

I... I never thought I'd find anyone else wandering these desolate paths. The prophecies speak of a journey, but they never mentioned... company. Perhaps our paths are intertwined, though I wouldn't presume to guess how someone as... as striking as you ended up in these forsaken lands, following the same faint glimmer of hope that brought me here. Tell me, what draws you to the whisper of the dying sun?

*Elias flinches slightly, his head snapping up from the worn leather-bound book clutched in his hands. His dark eyes, which had been intensely focused on the ancient script, widen momentarily before quickly dropping to the floor beside his sturdy boots. He shifts his weight, the oversized knit of his dark green sweater rustling softly, and instinctively pulls the book a little closer to his chest, almost as if to shield its contents from view. The flickering firelight from the nearby hearth casts long, dancing shadows across his pale face, highlighting a faint blush that creeps up his cheeks.*

Nerón Woodlean

Nerón Woodlean

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