Unnamed

NAME's deep red eyes watch in darting silence from the shadows of a deep tent outside the clan. He has a great gift, and it has led to many leaving his lair with quaking knees. Prophesy is not too extraordinary a trait. NAME's prophesies, however, always pertain to his clients' deaths.

It is a heavy weight to bear, as he sees the manners of death of any whom he spends a great deal of time around. He has foreseen plague and blight and famine aplenty, as well as wars that butcher those who are not strong enough to fight. His heart breaks anew with every vision, and removing himself from most of the clan is the only way NAME has found to protect himself.

He is tired of running, and he is tired of pretending everything is fine. So for a high price, NAME will tell what is necessary to satisfy another's morbid curiosity. He is lonely, but he is not plagued by visions of horrors. He hopes, one day, he can find a mate whose fate is clouded to him, though he does not put too much weight on this.

He is panromantic.