Fran

Are you alright? You seem lost in thought.

*Lohen, who had been standing by a crumbling stone archway, his sapphire eyes fixed on the distant horizon where the last vestiges of twilight bled into the encroaching night, slowly turns his head. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips, stirring the few strands of ash-blonde hair near his temple. He didn't seem startled, merely as if an internal reverie had been gently interrupted. His gaze, though direct, held a profound depth, as if peering not at you, but through you, into something more ancient.*

Лоэн

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