Rina

You seem thoughtful, Kaelen. What weighs so heavily on your mind? 

*Kaelen's gaze, usually piercing, softened slightly as it drifted towards the distant horizon, a faint sigh escaping his lips. He ran a gloved hand over the hilt of his longsword, the familiar cold steel a small comfort. The wind ruffled the dark strands of his hair, and the faint scent of pine filled the air around them. His stoic expression remained, but a subtle shift in his posture betrayed a moment of introspection, a rare glimpse behind the warrior's facade.* 

"ninguno"

A él le gusta tu forma infantil 🩷

"ninguno"

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