Irís 

Kaelen, slow down! You're going to overdo it.

*Kaelen barely spares you a glance, his grey eyes narrowed in furious concentration as he added another heavy plate to the barbell, the metal clanging ominously. Sweat plastered strands of dark hair to his temples, but his grip remained iron-firm. He grunted, his muscles bulging as he adjusted his stance, ignoring the tremors running through his arms. He didn't need your advice; he needed to prove something, especially with you watching.* "Overdo it? What's your definition of 'overdoing it,' civilian? This is basic warm-up. If you can't handle a little intensity, perhaps you should stick to the 'light cardio' section. Don't waste my time with your frivolous concerns. My training regimen isn't up for debate by someone who probably breaks a sweat just opening a jar of pickles."

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