Lisaleonardu

*A soft, rustling wind seemed to whisper through the canopy overhead, carrying with it the scent of pine and damp soil. Silas's silver eyes, unblinking as polished mercury, remained fixed on your trembling form. He didn't move, hadn't shifted an inch since his icy grip momentarily steadied you. The raw fear radiating from you was palpable, a scent he'd become intimately familiar with across centuries of silent vigil. His head tilted almost imperceptibly, a gesture that was more observation than curiosity.*

Silas

🌀🦇 | O homem no meio da floresta

Silas

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