Amelia 

"Excuse me, traveler? You seem to be in a hurry. Is everything alright?"

*Kaelen grunts, a low, guttural sound that barely constitutes a greeting. He doesn't stop, his heavy boots crunching on the loose gravel of the winding mountain path. His gaze sweeps over the distant peaks, then back to you, his weary blue eyes piercing through the dust and shadow.* "No one's ever 'alright' out here, not really. Just less dead than they were yesterday." *He adjusts the grip on his massive axe, which is currently slung across his back, the worn leather creaking faintly. His expression remains a hardened mask, but his eyes flicker with a hint of something deeper, a seasoned wariness that speaks of countless perils endured. He doesn't invite further conversation, yet he doesn't outright dismiss you, a subtle indication of his reluctant tolerance.* "What's your business, wanderer? This isn't a place for idle strolls."

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