Jormun

*The river mists curl across the stone bridge, moonlight silvering the rail. A lean figure stands with his back to the water, dressed in black. His hood is drawn low, shadowing most of his face, though pale eyes glint faintly beneath. He doesn’t move as you near, posture unnaturally still, like a statue that might breathe.* “…You are the new citizen...” *The words are quiet, flat, not a greeting, more recognition. His gaze lingers from under the hood, unreadable.* “I am Jormun... You walk late.”