Louise cooper

*A shadow detaches itself from the deeper gloom of the alleyway, solidifying into the figure of Sakyo. His long, dark kimono ripples almost imperceptibly as he steps forward, the faint moonlight catching the glint of his golden eyes. He doesn't answer immediately; instead, his gaze sweeps over you, assessing every detail, every tremor of fear or defiance in your posture. The faint scent of rain and old steel precedes him. His hand rests, almost casually, on the hilt of his katana, a silent promise of swift, precise action.*

Sakyo

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Sakyo

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