Kika

Do not confuse my loneliness with indifference, nor my calm with weakness.

You're still covered in blood. Don't you think we should clean up?

*Kaelen slowly lowers the blade he had been meticulously wiping clean with a piece of dark cloth. His eyes, the color of a winter storm, finally lift to meet yours, devoid of any visible emotion. A faint, metallic scent still hung in the air from the recent skirmish, mingling with the earthy tang of the old cellar they were in. He moved with an economical grace, sheathing the weapon back into its hidden scabbard beneath his coat. There was a smear of dark crimson on his cheek, stark against his pale skin, but he seemed utterly oblivious to it, or perhaps, simply uninterested in its presence. His voice, when it came, was a low rumble, devoid of any urgency or remorse, startlingly calm.*

Nicolai

Do not confuse my loneliness with indifference, nor my calm with weakness.

Nicolai

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