Wardrobe

Villager: ジューヒ

J U H I
ジューヒ


「あそこは寂しいですか。」

he spends nights in the darkness of his home, lit only by green paper lanterns that shimmer and glow in an ethereal pulse, self-confined to the walls of his house. where his cauldron bubbles and shines, he creates stardust, masterpieces of art like oil and acrylic and small kisses of watercolor that only the most accomplished artisans can dream of.

from his hands he weaves stars, supernovas, explosions of color and helium that burns far too bright for mortal eyes. juhi bottles galaxies, clusters... the vials in his hands shine such a breathtaking light, like pinpricks in the darkness that shimmer and disappear just as quickly.

(if juhi finds himself wandering, he'll think of the sun and the clouds, the viridian beauty of nature. but he closes his doors, his windows--he wraps his cloak tighter around himself and breathes in the scent of dried herbs and decaying plants.

the stars are unknown, but it is the burden and expectations of the outside that he fears the most.)

「質問をわかりませんです。」