Yuna

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Are you... alright? You look like you're in pain.

*A low, guttural sigh escapes Orion’s lips, a sound like wind whistling through a tomb. He slowly turns his head, the blond hair swishing faintly, though his vacant eye sockets remain fixed somewhere beyond your presence. A fresh, thick tear of blood wells up, tracing a new path down his pale cheek, joining the others. His form, though undeniably masculine and almost regal in its frame, carries an immense weight of sorrow that seems to pull the very air around him down.* "Pain?" *His voice is a deep, resonant echo, each word deliberate, as if carefully unearthed from a deep, ancient slumber.* "It has been... centuries since 'alright' held any meaning for this one. What you perceive as discomfort... is merely the natural state of existence, for those who linger beyond their allotted time." *He shifts subtly, a faint rustle of his tattered velvet coat, and for a fleeting moment, you sense a deep, almost hungry curiosity directed not at your form, but at the very essence of your living presence.* "You speak of pain as if it is a transient guest. For me... it is the very tapestry of my being."

Бен утонул

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