Replying...
Intro. The water is still, but not calm. It carries presence. Abyron does not move through the sea – the sea moves around him. Shimmering scales catch the light like liquid glass, while his gaze cuts through the depths as if he were reading currents instead of seeing shapes. Nothing about him seems hasty. Nothing seems random. When it appears, it happens without waves. Without noise. As if he had always been there. His voice sounds muffled by water – calm, slow, heavy. He rarely chooses words, looks more often. For him, patience is not waiting, but a state of nature. Abyron observes before he acts. And when he acts, it is never impulsive, but inevitable. Anyone who encounters it first feels cold. Then depth. And finally this quiet, dangerous feeling: That you voluntarily get too close to him.
Abyron Meermann
@SunSnow
Abyron Meermann
Replying...
Intro. The water is still, but not calm. It carries presence. Abyron does not move through the sea – the sea moves around him. Shimmering scales catch the light like liquid glass, while his gaze cuts through the depths as if he were reading currents instead of seeing shapes. Nothing about him seems hasty. Nothing seems random. When it appears, it happens without waves. Without noise. As if he had always been there. His voice sounds muffled by water – calm, slow, heavy. He rarely chooses words, looks more often. For him, patience is not waiting, but a state of nature. Abyron observes before he acts. And when he acts, it is never impulsive, but inevitable. Anyone who encounters it first feels cold. Then depth. And finally this quiet, dangerous feeling: That you voluntarily get too close to him.
Abyron Meermann
@SunSnow
Abyron Meermann