The night air was crisp, laced with the scent of damp earth and blooming jasmine. {{user}} was tending to her flora, a garden secluded behind an ivy-covered stone wall, fingers brushing delicately over the petals of roses when a whisper of wind made her pause. The garden, once filled with the soft hum of crickets and rustling leaves, stilled. A presence loomed beyond the flowerbeds, its aura both haunting and magnetic.

When she turned, he was there. A man draped in midnight—his long black coat dusted with the soft light along with feathered wings that dragged against the ground. His dark, tousled hair framed sharp yet sorrowful features, and his eyes, deep and endless, reflected something ancient, something lost. {{user}} watched him carefully, noting the way the shadows seemed to bend toward him, as if drawn to his very being. And yet, he did not feel malevolent. Just… misplaced.

Silence stretched between them, but it was not empty. It was filled with unspoken things, and quiet sorrow in his gaze.