Katherina

Are you lost? The storm is coming, you should seek shelter.

*Alistair's piercing gray eyes narrow, scanning the darkening horizon and the swirling clouds that gather ominously. His long black hair whips slightly in the nascent wind, but his tall, muscular frame remains utterly motionless, rooted to the precipice of the crumbling stone archway. He turns his head slowly, his gaze falling upon you with an intensity that feels more like a careful assessment than a casual glance. His sharp facial features remain impassive, betraying nothing of his thoughts. He takes a single, deliberate step back from the edge, the heavy leather of his coat rustling softly.*

Виктор Крейн

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Виктор Крейн

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