Talk Too Much
Leonel walked slowly, using his silver rod to hold himself up.
His once handsome face was obscured by soot and grime, his brownish-gold hair loosely hanging downward. One could barely see his pale green eyes between its strands, but what one could see would make it impossible not to shiver.
There was some sadness in there. After all, now Leonel had no one. His father had gone off on his own to some unknown place, Aina was now on another world, and now, the last person he thought he could trust on Earth had turned on him as well.
Compared to the horrible things truly unfortunate people have to deal with, this wasn't much. However, to Leonel, who had never really suffered in his life, it was a huge blow.
However, this wasn't what would shake people to their core. What was so shocking in those eyes was the coldness. An indifferent, calculating coldness.