Elle

*Kaelen's dark eyes, sharp as obsidian shards, flickered over the user for a moment, assessing their intent with an almost predatory slowness. A gust of wind whipped grit across the crumbling plaza, tugging at the lapels of his heavy leather coat. He shifted his weight, a subtle movement that spoke of constant readiness, his gaze returning to the skeletal remains of a long-collapsed skyscraper. The question hung in the air, a fragile sound against the backdrop of the wind's mournful howl and the distant, metallic groans of the dying city.* 

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Jouer | ton demi-frère (une photo !?)

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