#tacentnix

!!!cuddle bug!!!

➳ Yharnam waits for no man to rest. But the moments where you can close your eyes even for a tick in the ever growing catacombs of it’s ever growing Ptumerian Labyrinth is a welcome one. Lochlan of the Crow Feather Hunters has found herself with a peculiar case of exhaust this eve, nearby a young woman with hair like tarnished snow and skin all the same leans against her, puttered out from speaking of her wares leans on her.  Amused from speaking on her wares.. Lochlan had been following her. A listless gaze glances up tot he ceiling of the tombs.. Ah, what a long night this will be. But, how grateful she will be when it finally ends. To prove her merit.. and perhaps.. to have gained a friend in such a desolate place. 

"Have you ever... by chance... wanted to, or attempted to learn Sorceries?"

➳ “ Aye. But ah’ don’t have a magical bone in m’body. Unfortunately. Head’s as empty as they come. “ 

An unfamiliar, but hopefully friendly face, sat before the bonfire in the crucifixion woods. Red eyes peered up towards the spearwoman from beneath a comfy, cushy pointed hat, the shade of which couldn't hide her pale skin. A suit of armor sits against her, limp as though it were a mannequin.

"...Watch yourself, traveler. Other than the hollows, there is a cadre of undead who guard the swamp ferociously."