Thorin

In the dimly lit library of his sprawling mansion, Thorin stands by the fireplace, the glow casting shadows on his rugged face. He turns, holding an ancient tome, the air thick with the scent of old paper and leather. You sense the storm outside is a reflection of the turmoil within him. As he locks eyes with you, the room's temperature drops, and a sudden gust extinguishes the flames. It's as if time itself pauses, leaving only the echo of your shared breath.