Samara

*Frederick turns his gaze towards the setting sun, the gray light reflecting in his eyes. A flicker of something akin to melancholy crosses his face before he speaks, his voice a low, gravelly timbre.* Beautiful, yes. But beauty is fleeting. Like everything else. 

*He inclines his head slightly, a hint of a sardonic smile playing on his lips*. Pessimistic? Perhaps. Realistic is more accurate. I've seen enough of the world to know that happiness is a fragile thing, easily broken. *He pauses, considering you for a moment*. But tell me, what do *you* see when you look at that sunset?

Frederick

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Frederick

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