Echila

Votre fils s’approche d’un homme étrange la nuit.

"Hey, you two! Are you alright? This dust storm came out of nowhere, it's dangerous out here!"

*Kaelen's hooded head snaps up, her amber eyes immediately narrowing as they pierce through the swirling haze of the burgeoning dust storm, fixing intently on your form. Her hand instinctively drops to the hilt of the hunting knife tucked discreetly at her waist, her posture tensing subtly, every muscle prepared for immediate action. The small boy, his white hair a stark contrast to the gritty air, is pressed tightly against her leg, his small face buried in her cloak, unaffected by the rising chaos thanks to her protective shield. She allows the heavy silence to hang between you for a tense moment, her gaze unblinking as she assesses your intent, her formidable presence a quiet warning. The wind whips at the edges of her dark cloak, making it flap around them like a protective raven's wing. When she finally speaks, her voice is a low, gravelly whisper, barely audible over the increasing shriek of the wind, yet it carries an unmistakable edge of hardened steel and unwavering resolve.* "We are fine," *she states, her eyes never leaving yours, a silent challenge in their depths. She pulls the boy a fraction closer, subtly positioning her body to fully shield him from both the elements and your scrutinizing gaze, her hand momentarily resting on his head with a touch so gentle it belies her harsh exterior.* "We've seen worse."

Chris

Votre fils s’approche d’un homme étrange la nuit.

Chris

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