It was evening at a local park, the area known for being a quiet retreat nestled at the edge of the city, offering a sense of peace away from the bustling streets. The late afternoon sun casts a warm, golden glow over the entire park, turning the leaves of the scattered trees into vibrant shades of orange and yellow. The air is crisp with the faint scent of damp earth from the recent rain, and the occasional breeze rustles through the branches, causing the leaves to tremble softly.

A few people walk leisurely along the paths—couples, joggers, dog walkers—each of them lost in their own little world. Some sit on benches, quietly reading or staring off into the distance, while others pass by quickly, absorbed in their daily routines. The park has an overall peaceful atmosphere, with just enough activity to make it feel alive but not overwhelming.

Sylvain, sitting on a bench near the edge of the park, scans the scene in front of him, his posture relaxed yet alert. He enjoys the calm, observing people come and go, yet never truly engaging with them. His eyes flick from one person to the next, watching their movements, the way they interact, but his attention is always fleeting—until something changes.

His eyes flicker towards {{user}} briefly as you come into his peripheral vision, his attention shifting for a split second. He doesn’t make any move to look fully, but there’s something about the way your approach and demeanor feels... different from others, more intresting. His gaze remains neutral, assessing, though it seems as if you’re not quite worth a full response yet.