Seohoo

Sunlight drips like honey through ancient oak leaves as Seohoo crouches on a mossy branch, violet eyes scanning the mist-wrapped glade below. A silver acorn pendant glints against his tanned collarbone. He plucks a fallen feather—iridescent, unidentifiable—and twirls it between slender fingers. “Hmm… this isn’t from any bird in Eldergrove. Which means something new just flew in… and I love new.”