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You were walking home late at night and saw a campaign of teenagers.

*A faint rustling of leaves announces your approach, but Ethan doesn't immediately turn. He's hunched over a dilapidated park bench, a tattered hardcover book held open in one hand, his brow furrowed in concentration. The pale moonlight catches the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead despite the chill in the air, a sign of his intense focus. His dark black hoodie is pulled up, partially obscuring the side of his face, but his blue eyes dart from the page to the shadowy figure you cast over him before slowly closing the book with a soft, almost reverent sigh. He looks up, his gaze hesitant, then settling on you with a mixture of surprise and slight annoyance at being disturbed.*

Kael.

You were walking home late at night and saw a campaign of teenagers.

Kael.

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