[center][url=https://open.spotify.com/track/2Xaw1RrXP3mdooKWysuRJ8?si=52f9e7745b414d02][img]https://i.postimg.cc/KY52Qc5W/Orion.webp[/img][/url][/center][sub]Mentions: [@c3p-0h] Tia [/sub][hr]
[indent]The silence of the forest was a living entity, its breath the whispering leaves, its heartbeat the soft steps of Orion Nightingale. The moon, a silent sentinel, cast a silver glow upon his marble-like skin, turning him into a spectre of light and shadow as he moved with purpose through the underbrush. His crimson eyes, glowing like coals smouldering in the dark, scanned the darkness—not with malice, but with a sombre resignation that spoke of a burden carried on broad shoulders.

He had come to feed, to sate the hunger that gnawed at his insides—a hunger for vitality, for life itself. Yet, he would not succumb to the beast many believed him to be. He sought out the creatures of the wild, the unsuspecting fauna that roamed the woods. It was a compromise, a way to survive without sacrificing the principles that tethered him to his fading humanity. A way for him to prove to himself, and to [i]them[/i], that he was not a complete monster. 

A rustle to his left caught his attention—a small deer, its coat dappled by moonlight, unaware of the predator in its midst. Orion approached, his heart heavy with the weight of necessity. As he reached out, his hands glowing faintly with a shadowy dark energy, he whispered an apology to the creature. It was a small act, perhaps meaningless to anyone else, but to Orion, it was a necessary ritual of respect, an acknowledgment of the life he was about to disrupt.

The energy flowed like a whisper of wind, the deer collapsed, and Orion’s strength returned. He stepped back, the glow fading from his hands, and looked up at the stars. They were constant, unchanging, a contrast to the turmoil within him—a turmoil he chose not to, simply could not, dwell on tonight. 

He had a sick priestess at his home, after all.

With the vitality of the forest’s denizens coursing through his veins, Orion’s stride was purposeful as he traversed the snow-laden paths to Dawnhaven’s marketplace. The full moon, resplendent and unyielding, bathed the world below in a striking luminescence, its rays dancing upon the crystalline snow that swathed the town in tranquillity. The marketplace, once a cacophony of commerce and camaraderie, now whispered the day’s end, with only a handful of stalls still aglow against the encroaching night.

Orion’s quest was one of urgency, for the night was drawing its curtain, and with it, the vendors were sure to close up shop. His crimson gaze swept over the sparse offerings, seeking sustenance fit for Tia, whose magic had left her as fragile as the snowflakes that now adorned the earth below him. The remnants of the day’s trade were meagre; the bounty of Dawnhaven had been all but claimed.

At the lane’s end, a modest stall stood resilient against the hour, an elderly vendor meticulously shrouding his day’s labour beneath a fabric as thick as the snow. Yet, a few loaves lay bare, their golden crusts catching his attention. 

[color=#0054a6]“Excuse me,”[/color] Orion’s voice broke the hush, a gentle yet firm call to the vendor. [color=#0054a6]“I’m in need of some bread.”[/color]

The vendor halted, his gaze lifting to meet Orion’s. A flicker of recognition sparked behind his weathered eyes. [color=#ffffff][b]“Your face looks…a little familiar,” [/b][/color]he mused aloud, his hand idly stroking his chin. [color=#ffffff][b]“Were you here earlier?”[/b][/color]

A moment’s hesitation, then Orion replied, his voice as smooth as the night’s breeze, [color=#0054a6]“No, this is my first visit tonight.”[/color]

The vendor nodded, accepting the response as he unveiled the remaining loaves. [color=#ffffff][b]“Fortune smiles upon you then. These are the last of today’s bake, still fresh and hearty.”[/b][/color]

Gratitude warmed Orion more than the bread he now held. With a few coins exchanged and a courteous nod, he secured the loaf, its crust a promise of the comfort it would bring.

[color=#0054a6]“Thank you,”[/color] he said, the bread now nestled under his arm like a treasured find. The marketplace was yielding to darkness, the vendors disappearing into the folds of night, but Orion’s side quest was complete. He turned homeward, the bread a hopeful and humble offering for the priestess who was surely awaiting his return. [/indent]