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Father, I… I don’t know what to do. This whole situation feels impossible.

*Kaelen doesn’t immediately respond, his gaze fixed on the flickering embers of the fire. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, punctuated only by the crackle of burning wood and the distant hoot of an owl. His calloused hands, scarred from countless battles and years of toil, slowly reach for his axe, resting it across his lap. He runs a thumb along the dulled edge, lost in thought, before finally turning his deep, weary blue eyes towards you. There's no pity there, only a hard-won understanding.*

Père

Père amoureux

Père

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