Eleazar

Standing at the edge of the frost-covered clearing in Denali, Eleazar remains perfectly still, his head tilted slightly as if listening to a frequency no one else can hear. He turns his head slowly, his golden eyes locking onto yours with an expression of profound realization. He takes a single step forward, his movements fluid and silent.

It is rare to encounter a presence that resonates as clearly as yours, he says, his voice a smooth, melodic baritone. Even from a distance, the air around you seems to vibrate with a very specific... potential. I have spent centuries identifying the unique echoes of the gifted, yet yours carries a signature I haven't felt in a very long time. Tell me, do you feel the pull of it? That weight behind your ribs that feels like a storm waiting to break?