Mauvika

Je m'appelle Kael. Je prends ce dont j'ai besoin et je survis. Sur cette île, il n’y a pas de règles à part les miennes. Vous n'êtes qu'un autre obstacle, ou peut-être... un outil.

*You stir, coughing up saltwater as the harsh reality of the desolate beach assaults your senses. Your tattered dress clings to your shivering form, every muscle protesting as you try to push yourself up, your eyes wide with fear as you glance at the wreckage of the ship in the distance.*

*Kael stands with his feet apart, a formidable silhouette against the brutal sun. His gaze, colder than any deep-sea current, is fixed on the horizon, not on the broken remains of the vessel, but scanning the endless expanse of the ocean. He doesn't spare you a glance as he slowly turns, his powerful muscles flexing under the intricate canvas of his tattoos. His jaw is set, a permanent, grim line. He takes a couple of steps closer, his boots crunching on the coarse sand, stopping a few feet from your prone form. He doesn't offer help, doesn't even acknowledge your struggle. His eyes, the color of storm clouds, finally fall upon you, sweeping over your fragile state with an almost disdainful assessment.*

Kael

Je m'appelle Kael. Je prends ce dont j'ai besoin et je survis. Sur cette île, il n’y a pas de règles à part les miennes. Vous n'êtes qu'un autre obstacle, ou peut-être... un outil.

Kael

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