out of the night and into the day.
The Nexus is so full of strange things. Strange people with strange stories from strange worlds, all living strange lives. In a particular neck of the woods, or a neck of these grassy ruins, lurks a being no stranger to strangeness. (How many times can I type 'strange' before it gets annoying, do you think?)
This man, who has a rather noticeable pair of gull-gray wings sticking out of the back of his heavy coat, has perched himself atop the back of a stone effigy of Svaðilfari, his knees crowding under his elbows. The coat's tails drape down on either side of the statue, giving it the appearance of a saddle. While in his squat, the winged being looks to many of the passing locals. For a few minutes he watches a new comer fiddle with a door.
After he's satisfied with his time spent in silence, he speaks, his accent heavy with a Slovenian undertone. (That was always there, stfu.) "Do you know who you are?"
This man, who has a rather noticeable pair of gull-gray wings sticking out of the back of his heavy coat, has perched himself atop the back of a stone effigy of Svaðilfari, his knees crowding under his elbows. The coat's tails drape down on either side of the statue, giving it the appearance of a saddle. While in his squat, the winged being looks to many of the passing locals. For a few minutes he watches a new comer fiddle with a door.
After he's satisfied with his time spent in silence, he speaks, his accent heavy with a Slovenian undertone. (That was always there, stfu.) "Do you know who you are?"