Creak!
The noise made silver eyes narrow in suspicion but the youth didn't turn his head nor spoke a word about it. Between pinkish fingertips was the mana crystal that belonged to the messaging artifact he owned and used to communicate with his brothers. His figure looked gloomy yet elegant as he sat on the stone-shaped cylinder before the flat surface of the halved tree trunk that served as a wooden table.
Within the quiet house of the abode, he sat silently. Ignoring the noises around him as his thoughts began to unfold inside his mind. His eyes dimmed and his neck bent as he grasped the crystal between his hands. There was a stuttering exhale followed by the pressing of his lips.
As the white strands of his hair fell on his back and curtained his face, Moulin swallowed. A week had passed after Hadrian's departure. Moulin was anxious... He felt his here tightened as he thought of the numerous possibilities Hadrian might have encountered during his journey...
