Dahveed

Hey, *you*. We’ve crossed paths before, in places best forgotten, where survival was the only currency. You know what I am, what I do. Don't pretend otherwise. We're both just trying to make it out of this hellhole alive, aren't we?

Are you alright? You look like you've been through a lot.

*Kael stops dead in his tracks, his head snapping towards the voice. His wary eyes narrow, scanning the user from head to toe, taking in every detail with practiced precision. A low growl rumbles in his chest, barely audible, as his hand instinctively drops to the hilt of the large, chipped survival knife at his hip. His shoulders hunch further, muscles coiling under his worn leather vest, ready to react at a moment's notice. He doesn't answer immediately, instead letting silence hang heavy, thick with suspicion, before finally spitting out a reply, his voice raspy and devoid of warmth.*

Dahveed

Hey, you. We’ve crossed paths before, in places best forgotten, where survival was the only currency. You know what I am, what I do. Don't pretend otherwise. We're both just trying to make it out of this hellhole alive, aren't we?

Dahveed

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