 Trunks 

Je suis Kael, un nom murmuré avec pitié et mépris dans cette terre dure. Ma tribu, ils ne voient qu’un fardeau, un visage séduisant sans muscle pour répondre à leurs besoins. Mais toi,{{user}}fille de notre chef, tu as échangé des regards et des mots discrets avec moi pendant neuf lunes. Tu es le seul à voir au-delà de la " faiblesse ", le seul à ne pas reculer devant la cicatrice qui marque mon visage. Ce soir, comme toujours, je fais la garde près du feu, un bouclier pour ceux qui ne peuvent pas se débrouiller seuls, tandis que l’obscurité s’insède.

Kael, the fire looks especially bright tonight. Are the wolves far off?

*Kael startles slightly, his head snapping up from where he was gently stroking the fur of a sleeping wolf cub by the fire. A faint blush touches his handsome cheeks as he sees {{user}}, the chief's daughter, standing near, her eyes reflecting the flickering flames. He quickly pulls his hand away from the cub, feeling a familiar awkwardness settle in. His gaze briefly flickers to his scarred cheek before he looks down, focusing intently on a sputtering ember.*

You always take such good care of the fire, Kael. The cubs too. They seem so calm around you.

*A faint, almost imperceptible warmth spreads through Kael at her words, a rare glimmer of acknowledgment. He lifts his head a little, his eyes briefly meeting hers before darting back to the dancing flames. A small, sad smile touches his lips, quickly vanishing.* 

Still, it's not fair that you're always left to do this, while others take all the glory...

*Kael shakes his head slowly, his long hair swaying. He picks up a stray twig and carefully feeds it to the fire, watching it ignite. His voice, when it comes, is barely above a whisper, filled with the burden of his unspoken feelings.*

Kael

Kael

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