[center][url=https://open.spotify.com/track/2Xaw1RrXP3mdooKWysuRJ8?si=52f9e7745b414d02][img]https://i.postimg.cc/KY52Qc5W/Orion.webp[/img][/url][/center][sub]
Interactions: [@The Muse] Kira;[@BOOM] Willis [/sub][hr]
[indent]Shrouded in the forest’s embrace, Orion was a spectre in the twilight, his presence as imperceptible as the whisper of leaves in the wind. His Blight-Born nature granted him an affinity with the shadows, allowing him to meld with the darkness seamlessly. The subtle rustle of his movements was drowned out by the natural symphony of the woods, rendering his approach nearly undetectable.

Nearly.

His senses, heightened beyond mortal limits, tuned into the rhythm of Kira’s heart. It was a sound he knew well—the rapid tempo of a Blight-Born’s pulse, quickened by the thrill of the hunt. Her alertness was a beacon to his perception, a clear signal that she might be aware of his proximity. Yet, Orion was not deterred; his own abilities were honed to perfection, a testament to his strategic mind and the rigorous control he maintained over the dark energy coursing through him.

Orion continued to track Kira’s movements with the precision of a seasoned hunter. The sudden halt in her steps and the dilation of her eyes did not escape his notice. The scent of blood, potent and iron-rich, wafted through the air, igniting a primal recognition within him. Still, he remained a shadow, his own eyes a muted glow of crimson, concealed by the dense foliage.

As Kira’s gaze found him—ah, so she had noticed him—a silent exchange passed between them, a question posed without words, a shared understanding of the hunger that gnawed at their kind. Orion’s nostrils flared subtly, acknowledging the scent that had arrested her. The proximity of the blood to the town was indeed troubling, suggesting an event that had eluded the guards’ vigilance.

With a swift motion, Kira brandished a dagger and surged forward. Orion’s instincts urged him to follow, yet he held his position, a testament to his strategic discipline. He was the prince’s shield, bound by duty, but the unfolding situation demanded his attention. The safety of Dawnhaven was paramount, and any threat, be it from a Blight-Born or otherwise, fell under his purview.

Kira’s stealth, though compromised by the blight’s cruel gift, was still formidable. Orion watched as she navigated the terrain, her form a wraith amidst the trees. Her approach to the blood-soaked figure was cautious and measured, revealing her experience and the survival instincts sharpened by her transformation.

The man before her, engrossed in his grisly meal, was an enigma. His attire, saturated with the lifeblood of humans, told a tale of recent violence. Yet, here he was, feasting on the meagre flesh of a squirrel. Orion’s mind raced with possibilities. Was this Blight-Born an outcast, driven to madness by the blight’s insatiable appetite? Or was there another explanation for the scene before them?

Orion’s hand hovered near the hilt of his own weapon, a blade forged from darkness and necessity. He was prepared to intervene, to protect Kira from potential harm, and to preserve the peace of the settlement. His gaze remained fixed on the stranger, ready to decipher his intentions and act should the need arise.

Kira’s stance was one of controlled aggression, her body language speaking volumes more than her words ever could. Her question hung in the air, demanding an answer, yet Orion knew that words were often secondary to the instincts that drove their kind. The stranger’s response, or lack thereof, would determine the next move in this delicate dance of predators.

His brow ticked up in confusion, and perhaps slight amusement, as the man prostrated himself to the red-headed Blight-Born. Was it an appeal to Kira’s mercy, or a move of last resort? Orion understood the futility of violence in this situation; it would only exacerbate the man’s predicament.

As the man, Willis, implored for assistance, his voice tinged with hope, Orion weighed his options. His duty was to protect, but his mission was also one of understanding. The Prince of Aurelia had extended an offer of sanctuary to the Blight-Born, a chance for redemption and peace. Perhaps this man, too, sought refuge from the relentless pursuit that had marked him as prey.

Orion stepped forward then, emerging from the shadows like a wraith materializing from the night. His approach was silent, his presence commanding yet not threatening. [color=0054a6]“Your plea has been heard,”[/color] Orion’s voice was steady, a deep timbre that resonated with authority. [color=0054a6]“Dawnhaven may offer you sanctuary, but your actions henceforth must reflect your intent for peace. We do not judge solely on past deeds but on the promise of a better path.”[/color]

He offered a hand to help Willis to his feet, his crimson eyes locking onto the man’s with an intensity that conveyed both the seriousness of his words and the sincerity of his offer.

And a warning to reconsider any act of betrayal. [/indent]