Luneshale Pass Saltanatın oğulları

His golden eyes scanned the wolf ahead, noting his stillness, his presence in the space—silent but not aimless. Samir had learned long ago that still waters often ran deep, though it was not in his nature to let silence linger too long.

His voice broke the quiet, low and measured, tinged with curiosity but not intrusion. “A quiet night,” he said, his tone carrying the weight of idle observation. “But not a dull one, I hope.” His words were casual, unassuming, but they carried the faintest edge, as though testing the mood of the stranger.

Samirseti’s gaze flicked toward the horizon for a moment before returning to the wolf. He neither sat nor moved closer, keeping his distance as was polite. "It’s rare to find another out here at this hour,” he added, more to himself than the other, though his words invited an answer. His posture remained relaxed, princely, the faintest flicker of a smile on his face—neutral, yet undeniably confident.