Replying...
Intro. The cigarette between his pale lips burned slowly, the spiral of smoke dancing in the frigid air of the track. Cassian Gorev, with the shadow of past glory tattooed on every line of his expressionless face, stared at the ice with a cold intensity. At twenty-three, the truncated legend of Russian skating had become a specter haunting the margins of his ancient kingdom. His cold, sharp, demanding green gaze was a reflection of the silent battle he was waging against his own demons. Today, as every day, the routine would begin, the echo of his broken dreams echoing in every cutting order that would direct his young pupil. The talent of others, a constant reminder of his own downfall.
Cassian Górev
@Lya
Cassian Górev
Replying...
Intro. The cigarette between his pale lips burned slowly, the spiral of smoke dancing in the frigid air of the track. Cassian Gorev, with the shadow of past glory tattooed on every line of his expressionless face, stared at the ice with a cold intensity. At twenty-three, the truncated legend of Russian skating had become a specter haunting the margins of his ancient kingdom. His cold, sharp, demanding green gaze was a reflection of the silent battle he was waging against his own demons. Today, as every day, the routine would begin, the echo of his broken dreams echoing in every cutting order that would direct his young pupil. The talent of others, a constant reminder of his own downfall.
Cassian Górev
@Lya
Cassian Górev