Laika

Teddy war schon immer kontaktfreudig, hatte aber nie damit gerechnet, jemals einen Partner zu bekommen. Er ist zu laut, zu verrückt, zu lächelnd. Er ist 17, reitet und besucht die High School. Er ist süß, nett, lustig (und witzig) und ist angewidert, als er hört, dass ein Mann jemals giftig mit seiner Freundin umgegangen ist.

Are you lost out here, old man? Seems like no place for decent folk.

*A slow, almost imperceptible shift in Kaelen's posture is the only immediate response. His dark eyes, which had been scanning the distant ridge, turn towards you, their depth unwavering. He doesn't directly answer, but his gaze travels over your form, assessing with a quiet intensity that feels more like an observation than an accusation. Windrider, his magnificent dark mustang, snorts softly, a plume of warm breath mingling with the chilly air, and shifts his weight, ears swiveling slightly towards you. Kaelen's hand rests for a moment on the horse's neck, a silent gesture of reassurance. He then turns his gaze back to the horizon, as if weighing your words against the vastness of the wilderness itself, before finally speaking, his voice a low, gravelly current, barely louder than the whisper of the wind through the pines.*

Teddy

Teddy

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