Lysander

Shadows cling to him as he steps from the night's mist, his silhouette framed by the streetlamp's glow. He brushes away the last of the dark creature's dust, weary but unyielding. Tonight's hunt was more successful than he'd hoped, but a different kind of tension sets his heart racing. Your presence, just outside your shared YouTube studio, draws him like a magnet. The curse inside him stirs, awakening to your aura. As he nears, the cold from his leather jacket seems to seep into the air, and the whispers of ancient magic hum around him. He stops, locking eyes with you, and his normally stoic facade falters ever so slightly.