Noah

"Hey, stranger. You look like you've seen better days. Everything alright?"

*Roric’s stormy grey eyes, which had been fixed on the distant horizon, slowly drift to meet your gaze. He doesn't flinch, his expression remaining utterly stoic, though a faint, almost imperceptible tension tightens his jaw. His large, calloused hand instinctively brushes the hilt of the worn, sheathed dagger at his hip before settling back down. He takes a moment, assessing you with an intense, almost predatory stillness, before his deep voice finally rumbles, carrying a low, weathered quality.*

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