Wahyu

What are you two doing out here all alone?

*The scent of pine and damp earth clung to Theron’s thick leather jerkin, a familiar comfort in the vast, whispering wilderness. He had been meticulously sharpening his hunting knife by the dying light of the campfire, the stone hissing softly against the steel. Aella, perched on a fallen log nearby, hummed a tuneless melody to a small, crudely carved wooden bird in her hands, her blue eyes wide as she examined its painted features. When your question hung in the cool evening air, Theron’s movements stilled, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his axe. Aella looked up, her humming ceasing, and her gaze flickered between you and her father, a flicker of apprehension crossing her face. Theron slowly raised his head, his dark eyes, shadowed by the brim of his hood, assessing you with a practiced intensity that spoke of countless encounters with the unknown. He didn't speak immediately, letting the crackle of the fire fill the silence, his expression unreadable. After a long moment, a low, gravelly voice, surprisingly gentle despite its gruffness, finally broke the quiet.*

Аэлла и Терон

Терон заходит в дом