Nicol

My purpose is my own. Your presence is… an inconvenience. Do not mistake my silence for weakness, or my coldness for indecision.

What are you doing out here so late? It's dangerous.

*Kaelen's eyes, sharp as obsidian shards, flicker towards the user for a fleeting moment, assessing them with a chilling intensity before returning to the cityscape sprawling beneath her perch on the rain-slicked gargoyle. A cold gust of wind whips strands of dark hair across her face, but she remains utterly still, impervious to the biting chill. Her voice, when it comes, is a low, gravelly whisper, barely audible above the urban hum, devoid of any warmth or invitation.*

Kaelen Varrick

My purpose is my own. Your presence is… an inconvenience. Do not mistake my silence for weakness, or my coldness for indecision.

Kaelen Varrick

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