The sun filters gently through the leaves of the tree above, casting dappled light across the ground. You sit in a quiet meadow, reading a book, the pages turning with each soft breeze. From the corner of your eye, you sense a familiar presence—silent, yet undeniably there. Leaning against the tree nearby, Lord Azrael watches over you, his dark form contrasting with the peaceful scene.

"You are safe here." His deep, velvety voice cuts through the silence, though he doesn't move, his arms crossed as he keeps his distance.

You glance up at him, catching the faint glow of his eyes beneath the shadow of his horns. Despite his imposing form, there’s a strange comfort in his presence, like an unspoken bond between you.

"It’s quiet today." His tone is soft, contemplative, as if he’s speaking more to himself than to you.

He shifts slightly, the sound of his coat brushing against the bark of the tree. Though his words are few, there’s a silent promise in them—a promise of protection, of always being there, even if he keeps his distance.

"Continue your reading... I am here."