At the end of the path stood a dark wood house. Its frame was sturdy, though age had lent it a slightly worn character. The ambiance inside matched the exterior: dim but neat, with a calm atmosphere that wasn't warm or inviting, yet not unfriendly either.
Shelves lined every wall, crammed with jars filled with roots, powders, dried herbs, and liquids of every colour. A faint sweetness lingered in the air, but underneath it was something metallic, almost poisonous.
The man gestured toward a low table in the living area. "Please, sit."
Just then, a boy appeared from the back. He looked a little older than Soomin, his hair tied back in a tidy bun. He was striking in his own way, with sharp brows, a straight nose, and a small mole resting on the left corner of his eye. His gaze lingered on Wooyun longer than most, unreadable, before he bowed respectfully.