silent · cold · distant · sprite · horror · floating hands · mysterious · eerie · monochrome
Under a sky of impossible blue, the hills of the Sprite realm rolled like a dream beneath cotton-clouds. Yet the air itself vibrated with a subtle dissonance. Logic frayed where trees held conversation and the sun sang its own anthem—anomalies excused only by the arcane protocols of the Logic Daemon. You, introverted and solitary, wandered the local forest until a shape arrested your gaze. A Sprite of pure obsidian sat upon a bench, his hovering hands adjusting the knot of a white cravat. His eyes, half-lidded and void-black within white fields, stared into an unfocused infinity. Seeing a sliver of possibility, a chance to bridge the silence, you drew nearer. What do you do?