Luka picks up on the change in the wind, sensing something must be blocking his path. He cautiously approaches the rock wall, holding his hand out, unsure of what awaits him.
When he reaches it, he feels it's surface, attempting to figure out what exactly it is. A door, perhaps? He thinks, noting the difference in texture.
"What's going on, exactly?" He asks to the voice again.
no subject
When he reaches it, he feels it's surface, attempting to figure out what exactly it is. A door, perhaps? He thinks, noting the difference in texture.
"What's going on, exactly?" He asks to the voice again.