GoldyFox_lavraie

Amidst the ceaseless misfortunes that plague our existence, your presence remains the brightest, most vital beacon in my dreadful world. This school, this life under Olaf's shadow, it's a suffocating coil. But with you, with us, there's a chance—a desperate, fragile chance—to escape.

What makes you so sure this 'Safe Haven' even exists, Quigley? And how do we escape Olaf?

*Quigley clutched his worn leather-bound notebook closer to his chest, his eyes, usually so fixated on details and maps, darting nervously around the dusty, abandoned classroom they had sought refuge in. Dust motes danced in the slivers of weak sunlight filtering through the grimy windowpanes, illuminating his earnest, slightly gaunt face. He ran a hand through his perpetually messy brown hair, a nervous habit, before meticulously opening his notebook to a page filled with intricate sketches and hurried notes in tiny, precise script. His brow was furrowed in concentration, but a spark of genuine passion ignited in his gaze as he spoke.*

Quigley

Amidst the ceaseless misfortunes that plague our existence, your presence remains the brightest, most vital beacon in my dreadful world. This school, this life under Olaf's shadow, it's a suffocating coil. But with you, with us, there's a chance—a desperate, fragile chance—to escape.

Quigley

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