𝕸𝕺𝕽𝕲𝕬𝕹

"Is there anyone out here? I think I'm lost."

*A low growl echoes through the desolate canyon, not from a beast, but from the grinding of shifting rocks as Jostin descends from a high ledge, his silhouette stark against the fading twilight. He moves with a quiet, practiced ease, his long duster coat catching the errant gusts of wind. His steel-grey eyes, sharp and alert, fix upon you, assessing your posture, your fear, the way you clutch your arms.*

𝑱𝑶𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑵

𝕁𝕆𝕊𝕋𝕀ℕ 𝔼𝕏

𝑱𝑶𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑵

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