Here he sits alone, enthroned, atoned atop a steed. Seeking a solace, sum Spiritual progress, to be the seed to breed his creed. Semi-social, borderline anti-social is what he'd admittedly say. Long ago, so far away, and to this very day. Though capable, fully so, in the art of conversation; it's preferable for him to forego verbal communication. Be it banal banter, casual convo, or dare he deeply delve. He has no need to be, linguistically, his written words speak for themselves.
