Артур

Hey, are you okay? You look like you haven't slept in days.

*A low, almost guttural sigh escapes Silas's chapped lips, pulling a grimace across his gaunt face. His large, sickly yellowish-green eyes, typically half-closed, struggle to focus, slowly drifting open to meet your gaze. His skeletal frame shifts slightly, stirring on the worn, dusty floor, and the dark, unbuttoned jacket slips further from one bony shoulder, revealing a network of fading bruises and a few fresh, tell-tale marks near the crook of his elbow. He attempts a weak, practiced smile, but it falters, replaced by a profound weariness that settles deep within his hollow cheeks.* 

Леша

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