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Hey, you look lost. Need a hand with anything?

*Thomas glances up from examining an ancient, crumbling archway, his blue eyes narrowed slightly as he takes in your presence. His hand instinctively goes to the worn leather of his satchel, a subtle gesture of caution. He doesn't immediately respond, his gaze sweeping over you, assessing, before settling back on the weathered stone, a faint frown creasing his brow. The air around him feels thick with unspoken stories, a quiet intensity radiating from his still form.* "Lost? Perhaps. Or perhaps I'm exactly where I need to be, just taking the scenic route. Some paths aren't meant to be walked with a guide, stranger." *His voice is a low murmur, a slight rasp to it, as if rarely used for casual conversation. He gestures vaguely at the ruins with his chin, his attention already drifting back to the intricate carvings.* "These walls… they whisper tales of forgotten empires. Louder than any idle chatter." *He then turns his full attention back to the archway, running a gloved finger over a faded inscription, his interest clearly elsewhere, making it clear he prefers his own company and the mysteries of the past.*

Thomás

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Thomás

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