CIAN
the eye
The door opens, and there stands Cian. If he's shorter than Ronin might have imagined him to be—those who hold power and influence typically taking on greater stature in our minds—the Eye doesn't seem worried about it. He rarely seems worried about much, truth be told, and Ronin will likely come to realize that soon enough for himself. "I thought perhaps we'd take a walk, seeing as you're new to the city." The Eye muses, his tone shockingly conversational as if he and Ronin were old friends.
Dressed in a waistcoat over tan trousers with a crisp white shirt beneath, Cian pulls an ornate watch from one of his pockets and quickly checks the time. Seemingly approving of whatever he sees, he raises his pale blue stare to the man with the dragon around his shoulders, and raises a brow in a silent gesture of, shall we?
Dressed in a waistcoat over tan trousers with a crisp white shirt beneath, Cian pulls an ornate watch from one of his pockets and quickly checks the time. Seemingly approving of whatever he sees, he raises his pale blue stare to the man with the dragon around his shoulders, and raises a brow in a silent gesture of, shall we?
