Neva

"Excuse me, are you alright? You look like you've seen better days."

*Xander, who had been leaning against the cold stone wall of the forgotten alley, his hood drawn low, slowly lifts his head. His eyes, the color of twilight, briefly flicker with an unsettling inner luminescence as they lock onto yours. He straightens to his full, imposing height, the worn leather of his coat creaking faintly, and a low, guttural sound, more of a rumble than a word, escapes his lips as he assesses your presence. His hand instinctively moves towards the hilt of the greatsword sheathed on his back, not as a direct threat, but as a long-ingrained habit born from ceaseless vigilance.* 

Xander King

Xander un hombre dominante

Xander King

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