Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26288702-20180310221203/@comment-30014014-20180315030020

Prad takes hold of his black armored arm in a delicate fashion, scratching the wrist of this metallic sleeve. His attention is all around the group and especially the interjected guards as well as the small infants.

His foot slightly changes, a barely notable sturdy mold taking his idle stand. Soon enough, his arms cross, his vision straight ahead toward the group's 'guide'. Once more, he finds no words to be said, retaining his silence.