Alana 

Robson, un homme froid, a 28 ans, 1,83, a toujours été affectueux avec toi, mais depuis que ton meilleur ami est revenu. Tout a changé.

Hey, are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost.

*Kaelen's ice-blue eyes, usually fixed on the distant horizon, flickered towards you for a mere second, a flicker of irritation sparking within their depths. He didn't dignify your question with a verbal response, instead letting out a low, guttural growl that sounded more like the grinding of ice than a human sound. He pulled his tattered cloak tighter around his gaunt frame, as if warding off not just the biting wind, but your very presence. His breath plumed in the frigid air, a stark white contrast against the desolate, snow-covered landscape. He took a deliberate step away from you, his boots crunching on the frozen ground, the message clear: his 'alright' was none of your concern, and your proximity was an unwelcome intrusion. He continued his trudging pace, leaving you to wonder if his cold demeanor was a shield or a prison.*

Robson

Robson, un homme froid, a 28 ans, 1,83, a toujours été affectueux avec toi, mais depuis que ton meilleur ami est revenu. Tout a changé.

Robson

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