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</div><span style="font-size: 26px"><b>Rhys Adaar</b></span><br/><b>Chosen By:</b>Cromm Cruach (Celtic)<br/><b>Location:</b>Forest<br/><b>Date/Time:</b>Noon, Dec 21st<br/><b>Wearing:</b>Outfit shown- except shirt is dark grey v-neck t-shirt, iron faery star and leather cord necklace, platform<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fmedia.discordapp.net%2Fattachments%2F878904166888644642%2F993849148774297700%2Funknown.png%3Fwidth%3D559%26height%3D559&amp;hash=acdb5eaa0fd73e46da03337894f9bc45" href="https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/878904166888644642/993849148774297700/unknown.png?width=559&amp;height=559" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">boots</a><br/><b>Tagging: </b>Clayton Barker (<a class="username" data-user-id="7193" data-username="Letum" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/7193/">Letum</a>)<br/><b>TRIGGER WARNINGS:</b>None<br/><hr class="bbc-hr bbc-hr--3"/>The stranger turned around as Cromm circled him, and Rhys arched a brow curiously. He'd yet to meet another Chosen that could<i>see</i>their god like him. Could it be that the newcomer could see Cromm? No, not quite. He wasn't watching the god precisely, looking almost as though he was watching a few steps behind the eight foot void. It led to interesting questions. Namely,<i>how</i>he could sense Cromm in any degree. Perhaps they were of the same pantheon? It might explain the god's reaction if so.<br/><br/>Professional curiosity might be a good term for the nearly startled expression, earning a quiet laugh out of Rhys. He happened to have a small handful of plants growing in the underground greenhouse alongside the vegetables he grew to feed himself when he didn't feel like going to the mess hall. It was interesting there was another person that grew here, giving him a great deal more interest in the man sitting by his fire. Though the fact that he was specific in his phrasing meant Clayton knew to some degree that he was associated with fae. He'd need to be careful himself, though he usually was when it came to wording and information. Phrasing was ever so important in all things, really, which is what frequently had him labeled a bard. Rhys watched as Clayton extracted an Altoids tin from his backpack, extending a joint of his own in exchange. "Buggy? Interestin' nickname." Taking the joint, he extended his back to Clayton with an appraising look. "You can call me Rhys. My friends call me Sunshine."<br/><br/>Extracting a hot pink Zippo from his pocket, Rhys arched a brow as he lit the end of the Orange Creme joint. "I got like... four hits in on that, so help yourself. Pineapple Express, if'n you're curious.<i>Also </i>home grown." He couldn't help but grin at the memory of how he ended up with that particular plant, smoke curling skyward from beneath the canvas awning. "How many strains ya got going at current? And which, outta curiosity?" Thinking through his current list, he probably had five strains at current. He wasn't sure what the rules about weed were on Elysian Isle, but he wasn't sure he exactly cared. He had a prescription, so let them try to tell him he couldn't.