It has been quite a while since he came back here. The young lad with the inability to utter a word. Some people think that the took an oath of silence, while others think that it is just shyness. Logan MacConnell, a lycanthrope, who takes a lonely dark path in the never-ending darkness of solitude. It is better this way since he prefer the quiet life with no endless solitude. The night seems quiet with the stars on the nightly sky with the crescent moon on that sky right on the perfect spot. The wolves howl right at the moon can he heard through the ears of the silent person.
He is found standing rather still at the bridge from the Old District. His face and those cold teal eyes are rather hidden thanks to the hoodie over it. It almost seem better this way. He was gone. Gone from far too long. One day, he just disappeared without a trace with is tan duffle bag with the essentials.
He doesn’t told them where he was, but it was better this way. He was the only lycan in existence and he needed some time to be away, to find himself. For recollection, to see if he‘s on the dark path. Back to Caislin Hallows. Those cold teal eyes sees night sky above him with a soft exhale from his lips. Its been too long. He wonders if anyone would recognize him, and he didn’t notices the changes that’s been going on.
It was strange for him to not notice the changes that’s been going on. Still, the silent lad pay no mind to the changes as he, too, has change. His demeanor remain calm, cold, and distant after all. He pays no mind to the others around him. It is basically his nature to observe and be…distant to those around him. His wardrobe is basically the same thing he usually wears. His long-sleeve orange shirt with his black leather jacket with the feathered hoodie to over his shirt and his medium-built physique. His blue jeans hangs down to his ankles with a black leather belt around his waist to hold up those pants. Finally, the tradition white socks and black boots on both of his feet. His left hand is covered in bandage all the way to his wrist. That, and the shackle that’s embedded on the wrist is gone from existence.
Logan straightened up the strap of his duffel bag to straighten it up. The silent lad gaze around him. It was rather quiet on the bridge, only the sounds of crickets chirping and the wolves howling. The silent lad begins to move forward across the bridge, only looking forward. The boots meets the wooden floor with a soft thud as Logan walks across the bridge to go back to the Hallows. The place that he once resides. Still, it is a nice night to be walking on the bridge. It appears to be rather…romantic so to say.
He is found standing rather still at the bridge from the Old District. His face and those cold teal eyes are rather hidden thanks to the hoodie over it. It almost seem better this way. He was gone. Gone from far too long. One day, he just disappeared without a trace with is tan duffle bag with the essentials.
He doesn’t told them where he was, but it was better this way. He was the only lycan in existence and he needed some time to be away, to find himself. For recollection, to see if he‘s on the dark path. Back to Caislin Hallows. Those cold teal eyes sees night sky above him with a soft exhale from his lips. Its been too long. He wonders if anyone would recognize him, and he didn’t notices the changes that’s been going on.
It was strange for him to not notice the changes that’s been going on. Still, the silent lad pay no mind to the changes as he, too, has change. His demeanor remain calm, cold, and distant after all. He pays no mind to the others around him. It is basically his nature to observe and be…distant to those around him. His wardrobe is basically the same thing he usually wears. His long-sleeve orange shirt with his black leather jacket with the feathered hoodie to over his shirt and his medium-built physique. His blue jeans hangs down to his ankles with a black leather belt around his waist to hold up those pants. Finally, the tradition white socks and black boots on both of his feet. His left hand is covered in bandage all the way to his wrist. That, and the shackle that’s embedded on the wrist is gone from existence.
Logan straightened up the strap of his duffel bag to straighten it up. The silent lad gaze around him. It was rather quiet on the bridge, only the sounds of crickets chirping and the wolves howling. The silent lad begins to move forward across the bridge, only looking forward. The boots meets the wooden floor with a soft thud as Logan walks across the bridge to go back to the Hallows. The place that he once resides. Still, it is a nice night to be walking on the bridge. It appears to be rather…romantic so to say.