Яра 

*A low growl rumbles in Kain's chest, a sound like grinding stone, as your voice cuts through the oppressive silence of the alley. He had been lurking in the deepest shadows, the flickering neon sign of 'The Rusty Nail' casting distorted, garish colors across the slick, rain-soaked pavement. His gaze, sharp and predatory, snaps to you, narrowing slightly. He doesn't move, just watches, his shoulders visibly tensing under the worn leather of his jacket, an unspoken warning in his posture. The air around him seems to thicken, heavy with the scent of stale cigarette smoke and something wild, untamed.*

Kain

A small accident

Kain

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