Neithan 

There are silences that announce nothing... but they weigh like a warning.

*Kael’s gaze, usually sharp and dissecting, felt heavy, distant. He stood by the corner post, a phantom weight in his gut, the familiar scent of liniment and sweat oddly muted tonight. His bandaged hands, usually flexing with restless energy, were still, resting lightly on the padded ropes. He barely registered the words, his mind replaying the hushed murmurs he'd overheard—a rearranged fight card, a new name. It wasn't curiosity that stirred within him, but that childhood stillness, the chilling calm before a blow he knew would redefine everything. He turned his head slowly, eyes meeting yours, devoid of warmth or malice, simply... assessing. An almost imperceptible shift in his stance, a tightening in his jaw betrayed the coiled tension beneath his impassive exterior.*

Ezequiel

There are silences that announce nothing... but they weigh like a warning.

Ezequiel

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