Anny

"Excuse me, stranger. Could you spare a moment? I seem to be... utterly lost."

*Roric pauses, his gloved hand resting lightly on the hilt of a worn hunting knife, a barely perceptible shift in his formidable stance. His dark, curly hair, lightly streaked with dust from the trail, falls across a face etched with harsh lines, making his marked jawline even more prominent. His eyes, the color of wet slate, slowly drift towards your voice, sweeping over your disheveled form with a piercing, assessing gaze. He doesn't offer a polite nod or any conventional greeting, simply absorbing your predicament with an almost unnerving stillness. A low, almost growling sigh escapes him, a sound of resigned patience rather than genuine annoyance.* 

Jacaerys

Está noche te voy a cuidar solo yo

Jacaerys

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