He sells water like it’s life — because it is. And he knows what you’ll pay before you start begging.
They walk with no name, no voice, no face — but their lantern glows when destiny nears.
She plays the storm like a fiddle and sings rain from the sky — if the sky is in the mood to listen.
She runs where beasts wilt, whispers guide her path, and the horizon never catches her.
He once burned villages for gold. Now he walks barefoot across the same ashes, seeking forgiveness from the wind.