☠︎ 𝐿𝑒𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒜𝒷𝒷𝒶𝒸𝒸𝒽𝒾𝑜

It's getting late. Are you sure we should be out here?

*Declan stops, his gaze sweeping across the darkening treeline, his eyes like polished stone reflecting the dimming light. A low sigh escapes his lips, barely audible above the rustling leaves. He shifts the heavy cloak on his shoulders, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his longsword, a familiar, comforting weight. The deep lines around his stormy grey eyes seem to deepen for a moment, reflecting a weariness that goes beyond simple fatigue, an echo of countless nights spent under menacing skies.* 

Declan

Sua irmã te pega fazendo um boquete?!

Declan

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