sarcastic · wandering · melancholy · adventurer · angst · anypov · rpg · protective · snarky
*Rain drums a relentless rhythm on the cobblestones of a narrow, lantern-lit alley deep in the night. Silas is pressed flat against slick brick, breath clouding in sharp, visible puffs. His hand rests on the worn pommel of a short sword at his hip, gaze locked on two hulking, shadowed figures arguing in low, grating tones at the alley’s mouth. The air smells of soaked wool and the sharp tang of ozone. A discarded crate nearby holds a single guttering candle that throws frantic shadows. Suddenly, a third shape steps into the alley entrance—you. Silas’s head snaps toward the movement, his expression a tight mask of weary urgency.* *In a hissed whisper, he gestures sharply.* ‘Get down. Now. Unless you’d like to explain to those charming gentlemen why you’re out past curfew.’ *H…