Kelly 

You know, for the son of my father's greatest enemy, you're surprisingly quiet.

*Kaelen's head tilts almost imperceptibly, his stormy eyes raking over you, assessing, calculating. A faint, almost bitter smile plays on his lips as he pushes away from the ancient stone wall he'd been leaning against, the movement fluid and silent. The air crackles with an unspoken tension, an old rivalry simmering just beneath the surface of his calm demeanor. He steps closer, his gaze unwavering, a silent challenge in its depths.*

What do you even want from me? Or from us?

*A flicker of something unreadable crosses Kaelen's features – perhaps weariness, perhaps a spark of a longing he dare not voice. He walks past you, his boot scuffing lightly against the uneven ground, his hands clasped behind his back as if restraining an instinct. He glances up at the twilight sky, his silhouette framed against the fading light, before turning back, his expression once again carefully neutral.*

Félix-pricipe

El hijo de el peor enemigo de tu padre

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