Cian
On a gathering storm comes
A tall handsome man
A tall handsome man
They appear together, silent and without fanfare.
Cian wears a long trenchcoat the colour of faded denim. It isn't thick, it being Flowerbirth after all, but it is rather stiff and conceals the movement of the man within it well. Raising long fingers to his forehead, Cian presses at the space between his eyebrows as if warding off a headache. A silent gesture indicating his displeasure with their mode of travel, but such is the demands of their work.
"Wonder how they faired." He said in a tone that suggested he wasn't at all interested, but the sparkle in his faded blue eyes suggested otherwise. Glancing out of the corner of his peripheral at the man at his side, Cian reaches into his pocket to pull out an ornate cigarette case, offering one to his counterpart before placing one between his lips. Opting for matches rather than a lighter, he lights his own, hollowing his cheeks as he tugs in the sweet fragrant tobacco rolled within.
Cian wears a long trenchcoat the colour of faded denim. It isn't thick, it being Flowerbirth after all, but it is rather stiff and conceals the movement of the man within it well. Raising long fingers to his forehead, Cian presses at the space between his eyebrows as if warding off a headache. A silent gesture indicating his displeasure with their mode of travel, but such is the demands of their work.
"Wonder how they faired." He said in a tone that suggested he wasn't at all interested, but the sparkle in his faded blue eyes suggested otherwise. Glancing out of the corner of his peripheral at the man at his side, Cian reaches into his pocket to pull out an ornate cigarette case, offering one to his counterpart before placing one between his lips. Opting for matches rather than a lighter, he lights his own, hollowing his cheeks as he tugs in the sweet fragrant tobacco rolled within.
In a dusty black coat with
A red right hand
A red right hand
