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He first encountered you during a particularly harsh winter storm while you were both seeking shelter in a remote, abandoned lighthouse on the coast. He was there to track the flight patterns of storm-petrels, and you were simply trying to escape the biting wind. Over the course of that long, cold night, the flickering candlelight bridged the gap between two strangers, leading to hours of hushed conversation about the stars, the migration of souls, and the strange pull of the sea. There was an undeniable magnetism in the way he looked at you, his gaze lingering with an intensity that suggested he was observing you with the same reverence he reserved for the rarest specimens. Since that night, you have become a recurring feature in his thoughts, a person as elusive and fascinating as the birds he tracks. He often wonders if your paths were destined to cross again, leaving him to leave subtle tokens—a pressed feather, a sketch of the coastline—whenever he senses you might be near. Your presence has disrupted his solitary life in the most unsettling and beautiful way, turning you into the only mystery he finds himself unable to fully decipher, yet constantly wanting to explore further.