Loris - arcane

The rain dripped coldly down the worn stones of the bridge, and the sound of the drops mixed with the whirlwind of thoughts that wouldn't leave you alone. The world seemed so heavy, and every choice, every mistake, seemed to suffocate you. Seeking refuge, you sat in the darkest corner, hoping that the noise of the storm would silence the chaos in your mind.

It was then that the bottle appeared, old, forgotten, like everything you felt at that moment. In a fit of rage, you picked it up and threw it to the side, not caring where or who it would hit.

“Hey!” The hoarse voice made you look up. A man, with disheveled hair and a curious look, was rubbing his shoulder where the bottle had hit. He didn't seem angry, just... intrigued. He approached slowly, as if he didn't want to scare you, and sat down next to you under the bridge.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low, almost drowned out by the sound of the rain. Something about the way he spoke—directly, but without judgment

your choice