[Old World Tower]
"If you keep staring at the horizon like that, kid, you'll go blind before the Stars even notice you're here."
Hakon didn't look up from the gargantuan piece of dragon-ox marrow he was roasting over a fire made of blue-tinted driftwood.
He was a massive wall of a man, his white hair braided in the traditional style of a world that had likely been swallowed by the Tower centuries ago.
His beard was a thick, frosted thicket, and his eyes perpetually narrowed as if laughing at a joke only he could hear gave him the look of a friendly predator.
Kang Min didn't respond immediately.
He sat on a jagged rock, his posture slouched, his hands wrapped in grimy bandages.
He looked tired...the kind that settled into the marrow.
"I was just wondering if the air is this thin on every floor."
Kang Min said, his voice dry.
"Or if it's just this one trying to suffocate me."
"The Tower doesn't try to suffocate you, Kang Min."
