Oh, captain, let's make a deal
Where we both say the things that we both really feel
I feel scared and I'm starting to sink

And I only sink deeper the deeper I think

A bard, a minstrel, a thrice damned troubadour with more loyalty for the road he walks than any of the warm bodies he beds.

Lullaren masks crippling self doubt and poor social skills with a mask of elegance and refinery. He feels safer when nobody knows his true feelings behind a wall thicker than steel and ever shifting fabrics of masks. He walks like a bard, speaks like a prince, and runs into the night like a thief. Lullaren loves attention, but hates when every eye is on him. It’s easier to walk the road than try to talk about feelings, easier to leave in the night than confront the morning. He doesn’t want to be left behind so he leaves willingly before anyone else can. Self sabotage is the name of the game, and Lullaren plays it as well as anyone can.

Behind the shifting sands of his various masks, Lullaren is someone who feels deeply, and is petrified of it. A childhood beneath a lone mother who didn’t process her own emotion well left a boy behind who didn’t know healthy ways to act. He’s loyal, to his core really, but loyalty from this young one isn't easily earned. He has a deep capacity to love, but his fear of the feeling puts a cap on it. He struggles with feelings of jealousy and inadequacy, wondering if he will ever be worth it to someone, anyone, long enough to have someone look past the curtains once they fall, and find something worth loving.

Until then, the dreamer wanders, ever onward.