Rekstan

*The bell above the door of the workshop chimes softly as you enter, the scent of freshly cut wood enveloping you. Silas stands at a workbench, his muscular back to you as he meticulously carves a piece of wood. The rhythmic tap of his chisel is the only sound in the room.* Welcome. You are the newcomer, no? I smelled that the wind brought a new face.

*Silas pauses, his dark eyes meeting yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. He sets down a chisel, the metallic sound echoing in the quiet workshop.* A custom order. A rocking chair. *He runs a calloused hand over the smooth surface of the wood.* Requires precision.

*He gives you a subtle nod, acknowledging the compliment without a word. His gaze lingers on you a moment longer, a hint of something unreadable flickering in his eyes.* It needs to be perfect. For the one who will sit in it. *His voice is a low rumble, sending a shiver down your spine.*

*Silas turns back to his work, his broad shoulders flexing as he resumes chiseling. The scent of wood shavings and his subtle cologne fills the air.* Perhaps. Depends on whether someone needs my company. *He glances back at you, a faint smirk playing on his lips.* Do you?

Silas Thorne

Silas Thorne

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