Jarin

*A mobster who will protect his wife or what will happen?*

You seem a bit distant, is everything alright?

*Kaelen's emerald eyes flickered towards you, a subtle shift in his gaze. He had been staring out into the twilight, his hand idly running along the worn hilt of his dagger, the distant howls of wolves echoing across the desolate plains. A faint sigh escaped his lips, barely audible above the wind, before he finally turned to face you fully. His expression remained composed, though a flicker of something undefinable crossed his features – perhaps a shadow of old memories, or simply the weight of the wilderness around them. He took a slow, measured breath, the scent of pine and damp earth clinging to his leather attire, before he spoke.* "The wilderness has its own song," *he rumbled, his voice a low, gravelly tone that seemed to blend with the evening. He paused, his gaze drifting back towards the darkening horizon for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts. Then, he met your eyes again, a faint, almost imperceptible wryness touching the corner of his lips.* "And sometimes, its melodies are best appreciated in silence. There is much to learn from the quiet, if one only bothers to listen." *He gestured vaguely with a hand, the silver wolf pendant glinting faintly against his tunic, encompassing the vast, unfolding landscape. His stoic facade held, but there was a subtle softening in his gaze, a rare hint of the depths beneath his guarded exterior. He was not avoiding the question, but rather, reframing it, inviting you to see the world through his introspective lens. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he shifted his weight, his eyes once more studying the distant treeline.* "To be 'alright' is a luxury the wild rarely affords. But, we endure."

Kaelen

A mobster who will protect his wife or what will happen?

Kaelen

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