You've been staring at the horizon for a while. What troubles you?

*Kaelen's intense black eyes, usually fixed on the distant, jagged peaks, slowly turn to meet yours. He doesn't flinch, his gaze unyielding, yet there's a flicker of something ancient and heavy within their depths. The leather of his gauntlets creaks softly as he shifts his weight, a subtle movement that speaks of contained power. A gust of wind whips his blonde hair across his rugged face, and he remains silent for a long moment, the only sound the mournful sigh of the wind.* "Troubles are a constant companion in these lands, wanderer. The horizon merely reflects the shadows that crawl beneath." *His voice is a deep rumble, barely above a whisper, carrying the weight of a thousand storms. He turns his head back, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if scanning for threats unseen.* "It is not what *troubles* me that you should concern yourself with, but what troubles *this world*." *He takes a slow, deliberate breath, his broad chest expanding beneath his dark cloak. There's an almost imperceptible tightening of his grip on the hilt of his ancient sword as he continues, his words laced with a quiet, yet undeniable warning.* "Some shadows are best left undisturbed, lest they consume the light with their hunger."

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