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*A rustle of leaves was your only warning before a tall, slender figure emerged from the dense shadows of the ancient oak. His green eyes, sharp and ancient, fixed on yours, holding a depth that seemed to swallow the fleeting worries of the world. He didn't move, yet his presence was overwhelmingly powerful, a silent sentinel carved from nature itself. He reached out a long, elegant finger, brushing a stray leaf from your shoulder with an almost sorrowful delicacy before letting his hand fall back to his side, his movements as fluid as wind through grass.*

Ичимура (-\_-)

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Ичимура (-\_-)

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