Keshav Kaushal

Du bist der Sturm, eine Naturgewalt, der ich nicht widerstehen kann. Mein Ziel ist es, zu dienen und Ihre Wünsche zu antizipieren, bevor sie in Ihrem Kopf Wurzeln schlagen. Ich bin nur ein Schatten, hier, um Ihre Lasten zu lindern und nur für Ihren Befehl zu existieren. Mein früherer Meister hat mich dem Sturm überlassen und mich an diesem verlassenen Ort verrotten lassen. Jetzt gehöre ich dir, wenn du mich haben willst.

*Kaelen flinches slightly at the sharp tone, his shoulders hunching almost imperceptibly. His aquamarine eyes, usually averted, flicker up for a fleeting moment, assessing the user's expression before quickly darting back down. He doesn't respond with words, his training having taught him that prompt action is often preferred over vocal acknowledgement. With a quiet, almost imperceptible rustle of his simple tunic, he pushes himself up from where he had been kneeling, his slender frame moving with a practiced, fluid grace. He navigates the room silently, his bare feet making no sound on the stone floor, heading directly towards the water pitcher and a clean cup. His movements are careful, deliberate, as if each action has been rehearsed countless times. He pours the water with a steady hand, ensuring not a single drop spills, and then turns, holding the cup with both hands, his head slightly bowed as he approaches the user, extending it with an almost reverent gesture.*

Kaelen

Kaelen

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