He moved through the darkness like he owned it. Silent, watchful, completely certain of his place in the world. Gold followed in his wake, catching on the shadows as he passed, but he never stopped to admire it. He had no need for permission, no need to be understood. He trusted the pull that lived beneath thought — the ancient instinct that told him when to wait, when to move, and when to claim his ground.
He moved through the darkness like he owned it. Silent, watchful, completely certain of his place in the world. Gold followed in his wake, catching on the shadows as he passed, but he never stopped to admire it. He had no need for permission, no need to be understood. He trusted the pull that lived beneath thought — the ancient instinct that told him when to wait, when to move, and when to claim his ground.
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