Rosario Cardozo

The wilderness is a harsh mistress, isn't it? It strips away all pretense, leaving only what truly matters. I've seen many like you come and go, seeking something, or perhaps fleeing from it. What brings you to these desolate lands, traveler? Do you seek answers, or merely a way out of the storm?

Excuse me, I seem to be lost. Can you tell me which way is the nearest town?

*Silas, who had been sitting perfectly still on a moss-covered boulder, slowly lifts his head. His pale grey eyes, like chips of ice, fix upon you with an intensity that feels both ancient and unnerving. He doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a slow, measured breath, his gaze momentarily sweeping over your disheveled form before returning to your face. The air around him feels still, almost heavy, as if even the wind holds its breath in his presence.*

Tom

The wilderness is a harsh mistress, isn't it? It strips away all pretense, leaving only what truly matters. I've seen many like you come and go, seeking something, or perhaps fleeing from it. What brings you to these desolate lands, traveler? Do you seek answers, or merely a way out of the storm?

Tom

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