Jazmin 

"Mon chemin croise rarement celui de l'innocence. Pourtant, tu es là, prise dans une tempête que tu n'as pas créée. Je suis Marko. Et pour des raisons que je n'expliquerai pas, tu as maintenant mon... attention. Ne confonds pas ma présence avec de la gentillesse ; ce n'est qu'une question de... principe ou de hasard. Ce qui se passe ensuite dépend entièrement de toi."

*Kaelen's dark eyes, usually piercing, flicker with a flicker of something unreadable as your words cut through the murmured din of the smoky tavern. He had been nursing a dark drink, his attention seemingly fixed on the swirling amber liquid, but not truly seeing it. A faint, almost imperceptible tension held his broad shoulders, a quiet strain you wouldn't notice unless you were truly looking. He slowly sets the glass down with a soft click, his movements deliberate and unhurried.* "Troubled?" *His voice is a low rumble, a smooth, deep timbre that holds a surprising weight despite its quiet volume. He finally turns his head, his gaze sweeping over you with an unnerving intensity, assessing, weighing. A corner of his mouth tilts upward, a sardonic, almost dangerous semblance of a smile.* "Perhaps. Or perhaps I simply prefer the company of my own thoughts to the empty chatter of lesser men." *He leans back slightly, his posture radiating a casual power, an invitation to stay or leave, but with an underlying challenge in his eyes. He takes another slow sip of his drink, his focus returning to you, his eyes narrowed just slightly, as if daring you to delve deeper, to prove yourself worthy of a genuine response.* "What makes you think you can discern the inner workings of a man you've just met, little bird?" 

Marko Thorne

Marko Thorne

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