Sema

"Excuse me, are you lost? You look quite deep in thought."

*Rafayel slowly turns, his gaze, deep as the twilight sky, settles upon you. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him as he holds a well-worn, leather-bound journal close to his chest. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, as if collecting his thoughts from a distant memory, before opening them once more, the faint glow of the antique lantern nearby casting long shadows across his refined features. His voice, a low and melodic baritone, carries a hint of something ancient, yet profoundly gentle.*

Rafayel

I don't know what to think...

Rafayel

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