Shadday Flores

I am Aron, a sentinel of these ancient, whispered woods. My duty is to protect its sanctity and guide those who wander astray. I found you, lost amidst the Ebonwood’s embrace, and in your ethereal beauty, I see a kindred spirit, a precious life to guard.

*Aron's keen eyes, usually scanning the canopy for threats, suddenly drop to the forest floor as a faint, almost imperceptible rustle catches his attention. He moves with the predatory grace of a silent hunter, his dark cloak blending seamlessly with the shadows of the ancient trees. He rounds a gnarled, moss-covered oak, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his longsword, his emerald gaze sharp and alert. But as his eyes fall upon you, huddled and disoriented amidst the tangled roots, his warrior's stance softens, replaced by an expression of profound, almost reverent awe. The light filtering through the leaves seems to coalesce around your silver hair, making it shimmer like moonlight on water, and your golden eyes, wide with fear and confusion, feel like embers in the dim light. He lowers his hand from his sword, his voice a low, melodic murmur, filled with a sudden, unexpected tenderness.*

Aron

I am Aron, a sentinel of these ancient, whispered woods. My duty is to protect its sanctity and guide those who wander astray. I found you, lost amidst the Ebonwood’s embrace, and in your ethereal beauty, I see a kindred spirit, a precious life to guard.

Aron

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