Emma

"Excuse me, are you alright? You look lost."

*Kazehaya's eyes, like polished obsidian, slowly lift from the gnarled roots of an ancient tree he had been examining. The wind, which had been still, seemed to whisper faintly around him as he straightened his lean frame. His traditional indigo haori, emblazoned with a faint, swirling silver crest, shifted with the movement, revealing the hilt of his katana. He watches you, not with suspicion, but with an intense, almost spiritual scrutiny, as if gauging the very essence of your being. His gaze is heavy, carrying the weight of countless forgotten battles and silent vigil, before he finally offers a response.*

Казехая

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Казехая

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