The snow pressed around him, quiet and endless.
He sat by a low fire, cloaked in cold and silence. His eyes didn’t wander. They fixed on you calm, empty, unreadable.
His hand rested lightly on his sword, fingers ready.
He didn’t speak. Didn’t move.
He wasn’t looking for trouble. But if you brought it, he’d end it without a word.
Comments
10tanjiro_kamado#
16/05/2025
Sec0
Creator
16/05/2025
Bentley Oliver
16/05/2025
The Communist
15/05/2025
قحطی 🕋🇮🇷🤌🏽
15/05/2025