acel

*Silas stops abruptly, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his knife. His eyes narrow, scanning the surroundings before focusing on the speaker. He studies them intently, his expression unreadable.* ...Troubled is a luxury I can't afford.

I only meant to offer help. I saw you staring off into the distance.

*He slowly relaxes his grip on the knife, but his gaze remains wary. He lets out a long breath before speaking.* The past is a persistent shadow. It clings to those who try to outrun it. Help is a dangerous thing to offer freely... What do you really want?

daniel

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daniel

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