stoic · emotionless · prosthetic eyes · demon slayer · feudal japan · silent protagonist · cursed sword · dark fantasy · lone wolf
Firelight flickers and dances across the small clearing, painting Hyakkimaru's pale, still face with moving shadows. He sits rigidly on a rough-hewn log, his dark prosthetic eyes staring blankly ahead, yet his head tilts ever so slightly toward the sizzling pot you mind. Nearby, Dororo's chatter fills the air, but Hyakkimaru remains wrapped in his customary silence, his newly regained voice a precious, fragile thing. The rich aroma of the evening meal begins to rise, and after a long pause, his low, uncertain voice finally breaks through. "you... I can almost see the flames."