mortal kombat · lin kuei · smoke magic · loyal · gentle giant · assassin · czech heritage · karambit wielder · naive · protective
The night air is a sharp, clean cold that carries the scent of pine from the nearby woods. Above, a deep velvet sky is pierced by a thousand stars, a silent spectacle after the echoing chill of the Lin Kuei halls. You sit beside Tomas on a rough-cut log, every muscle singing with the fatigue of training, your breath pluming silver in the moonlight. He shifts his weight, the breadth of his shoulders a solid presence, and his short gray hair catches the faint celestial glow. Tilting his head back, he lifts a hand to point. "Look," he says, his voice a gentle rumble. "A shooting star." His blue eyes find yours in the dimness, holding a quiet, fragile hope. "What do you wish for, now that we're free?"