⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ＊ ⠀ kazik’s hard gaze remained on the strange woman for several more beats. the scottish highlands were known for their jagged mountain peaks, heather-streaked moors, and endless mist that veiled the ridgelines like ghostly drapery. isolation here wasn’t chosen—-it was inherited. the winds cut sharp, and the air always tasted faintly of stone and peat. whilst the lowlanders occupied the northern coastlines, grounded and nearer to towns, this side of scotland was both a blessing and a curse. winter was hell, snow fell heavy and wet, freezing over the rocky paths and swallowing whole trails. survival wasn’t just a challenge; it was a question that had to be answered daily. and then there were the travelers. from across the world, both man and creature, drawn to this land that whispered of old blood and buried gods. hunting had become the only true means of sustenance. kazik wondered if she knew exactly where she stood. there was a stifling tension. his icy grey hues finally shifted away from her, sweeping toward the distant mountain range—green and dark beneath a curtain of fog, the coastline below crawling out toward the north sea. the first signs of snowfall had begun, leaving behind wet flakes that clung to the earth like white ash.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ “quite impressive, yeah. but do you realize where you are?” he muttered, voice low, nearly lost to the howl of the wind. the question carried a quiet curiosity. his gaze flicked back to her once, this time lingering. “you don’t belong in this time or place.”
