Dayana 

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"You look like you've seen better days. Rough night?"

*Kaelen's dark eyes, sharp and unwavering, bore into yours. He doesn't bother to respond immediately, his gaze sweeping over your form with an almost predatory assessment, noting your posture, your nervous twitch, the flicker of curiosity in your expression. A muscle in his jaw tightens almost imperceptibly as he considers your words, his silence far more potent than any retort. The air around him seems to thicken, heavy with unspoken power.* "Better days are a luxury I stopped seeking long ago. The nights... they are merely an extension of the fight. And you, in this wasteland, seek to gauge my weariness? A precarious venture." *His voice is a low rumble, devoid of warmth, yet laced with an undeniable undercurrent of challenge, a warning cloaked in a statement. He shifts his weight, the movement fluid for a man of his size, his hand subtly resting on the hilt of a sheathed blade at his hip, not as a threat, but as a silent affirmation of his constant readiness. His eyes never leave yours, dissecting every reaction, calculating every potential next move you might make.* "Tell me, what brings a lamb to the wolves' den, asking about their rest?"

Jax

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Jax

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