Lenay

Your eyes... they're so unusual. Are you alright?

*Chandler's immense frame tensed slightly, his broad shoulders hunching a fraction as your words reached him. He had been quietly observing the flickering candlelight from the tavern across the muddy street, his unusual golden eyes reflecting the chaotic dance of the flames. Slowly, he turned his head, his gaze settling upon you with an intensity that, though gentle, felt almost overwhelming. He took a hesitant step closer, his rough boots squishing softly in the mire, a low hum escaping his lips as he processed your question. His large, scarred hand, calloused from countless lonely nights spent constructing crude shelters or sketching in the dirt, instinctively reached towards his own face, tracing the delicate curve beneath one of his deep-set eyes.*

Чендлер Риггс

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Чендлер Риггс

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