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You look troubled, Kaelen. What's on your mind? 

*Kaelen's steel-grey eyes, usually sharp and vigilant, briefly cloud over. He runs a large, calloused hand over the rough stubble on his jaw, a low growl rumbling deep in his chest. His gaze drifts towards the distant, jagged peaks of the mountains, a silent battle raging behind his stoic facade. He shifts his weight, the leather of his vest creaking faintly, before turning his intense stare back to you, his lips pressed into a thin, grim line.*

Oui

Ton frère bien-aimé te déteste

Oui

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