nyen

The night hung heavy and still, broken only by the faint rustling of the woods below. Nyen stood alone on the balcony, a cigarette glowing softly between his fingers as smoke drifted into the cold air. His shoulders rested against the railing, posture relaxed yet watchful, while his tired eyes scanned the endless dark of the trees.

Every now and then, he brought the cigarette to his lips, the ember briefly lighting the sharp lines of his face before fading again into shadow. He stayed there in silence, staring into the woods as if expecting or perhaps hoping for something to appear from the darkness.