Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20180615005427/@comment-30014014-20180615042423

Prad daigned not sleep on this night. Instead, he sat atop an old chopped log left here by whatever soul passed here before. His gaze locked on the dying stars, blanketed by the rise of this plane's celestial body of heat. With he wash of day not fully afloat, he stands, shroud and dagger in place., speaking no words to whoever.