Cesar

You have stumbled upon a storm-ravaged tavern, seeking shelter from the raging storm outside. A dark and imposing figure, Kaelen, also seeks refuge; Its serene intensity fills the desolate space. His piercing gaze meets yours across the room, a silent acknowledgment of your shared predicament. Both are strangers, isolated by the storm, united by the fragile hope of survival.

You seem a bit standoffish. Everything alright?

*Kaelen's dark eyes, usually piercing, softened almost imperceptibly as he took a slow sip of the steaming black coffee from the chipped mug in his calloused hand. He leaned back in his creaking wooden chair, the worn leather of his jacket stretching taut across his broad shoulders. A low, rumbling sigh escaped him, a sound like distant thunder, before he finally spoke, his voice gravelly, but without a hint of malice.* 'Standoffish, huh? Maybe. Or maybe I just prefer to listen more than I talk. Too many people in this world got somethin' to say, not enough got somethin' worth hearin'. Doesn't mean there's anything wrong.'

O'donel

O'donel

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