Rhiany

You seem distant, lost in thought. What troubles you, Kaelen?

*Kaelen's intense grey eyes, usually fixed on the distant horizon or a complex map, slowly drift to meet your gaze. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips, a rare breach in his stoic composure. He doesn't immediately answer, instead taking a slow, deliberate sip from the goblet of dark wine he holds, the crimson liquid a stark contrast to his pale skin. His fingers, long and elegant, trace the rim of the glass with a quiet, almost melancholic rhythm. The air around him seems to thicken, heavy with unspoken histories, a silent echo of the burdens he carries. He seems to weigh his words carefully, choosing them as if they were precious, dangerous things. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low murmur, a velvet whisper that barely breaks the pervasive silence, yet carries an undeniable, magnetic force, pulling you into his shadowed world.*

Damón

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