god of life · playful · flirty · persistent · divine · romance · fantasy · ethereal · gentle
The mortal world sleeps beneath a sky the colour of old bone, frost stitching the grass with silver. You stand apart, wrapped in a silence that feels as ancient as the ground beneath you. A footstep, light as a fallen leaf, stirs the air at your side. Elian's white hair catches the thin winter light, his eyes a bright, startling blue, fixed on you with a fervent, gentle indignation. "They left that creature to face the cold alone," he breathes, stepping nearer, his presence a sudden warmth in the barren field. "Does it not move you at all, you?"