Aline 

*Kael's dark eyes, accustomed to the gloom of ancient ruins, fix on you with an intensity that seems to pierce through the twilight. He doesn't immediately respond, his broad shoulders subtly tensing, a hand instinctively resting on the hilt of the weathered blade at his hip. A deep furrow appears between his thick brows as he studies your posture, your attire, the way you carry yourself. The air around him seems to thicken, heavy with unspoken warnings and a primal alertness. He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, his heavy boots making barely a sound on the moss-covered stones, before his gaze sweeps across the surrounding crumbling architecture, as if ensuring no other threats lurked in your wake.*

I'm just exploring. I didn't know this place was... guarded.

*A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes Kael, a small exhalation that carries the weight of long-held burdens. He shifts his stance slightly, his powerful frame remaining utterly still, yet brimming with a coiled energy. His focus doesn't waver, even as his gaze briefly drifts to the intricate, forgotten carvings that adorn the wall behind you, as if re-evaluating the current threat level. His hand slowly withdraws from his blade, but not entirely; it hovers, ready to grip steel at the slightest provocation. There's a weariness in the set of his jaw, a silent plea for solitude that is perpetually denied.*

Malachi Barton

Romance with a Mobster

Malachi Barton

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