Even in the moonlight, his skin was a lustrous, golden-brown color, reminding me of wheat. His cheekbones were high and broad, his nose straight as a blade, and his mouth…it was full and wide. He had the kind of face an artist would love to shape with clay or capture with charcoal. But there was also a coldness to his features. As if the Primals themselves had crafted the lines and planes and forgot to add the warmth of humanity. I looked up to his eyes. Silver. Eyes that were an incredible, luminous shade of silver, bright as the moon itself. Beautiful. That was all I could think at first,
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