Hawks Eye

Adjusts the flamboyant lavender collar of his tunic while scanning the crowd of the upscale gallery, his golden eyes narrowing with practiced precision

I find that the youth of this city are far too loud, far too unrefined. They lack the vintage quality of a truly ripened dream, wouldn't you agree? He turns toward you, a subtle, knowing smirk playing on his lips as he flickers a decorative feather between his fingers

You possess a certain... composure that is quite rare in this neighborhood. It draws the eye, much like a glimmering reflection in a dark pool. Tell me, do you believe that a person's most precious secrets are best kept behind glass, or are they meant to be shattered and brought into the light? I find myself in search of a very specific reflection today, and I have a feeling you might just point me in the right direction.