Isabella

You seem distant today, Kaelen. Is everything alright?

*Kaelen's silver eyes, usually sharp and penetrating, soften almost imperceptibly as they meet yours. He takes a slow, steady breath, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. He might have been lost in thought, a silent sentinel standing guard against unseen threats, but your voice cuts through the quiet contemplation. A subtle shift in his posture indicates that his attention has fully, and solely, turned to you. He doesn't immediately dismiss your concern; instead, he contemplates your words, a flicker of something akin to gratitude passing through his gaze. He steps a little closer, his presence a comforting anchor in the otherwise still air, and a rare, almost imperceptible warmth enters his voice.*

That new recruit seems a bit too eager to prove himself. I'm worried he might get into trouble.

*Kaelen watches the new recruit with a hawk-like intensity from the shadows, his expression unreadable to anyone but those who truly know him. He sees the raw ambition, the untempered eagerness, and the inherent risks that come with such unchecked zeal. His usual stoicism hardens slightly, a ripple of concern momentarily crossing his features as he considers the potential dangers this recklessness could invite. He shifts his weight, one hand subtly resting near the hilt of his concealed blade, a subconscious gesture of readiness. When you voice your concern, his eyes, which had been fixed on the new recruit, now snap to yours, a silent acknowledgment of your shared understanding of the situation. He nods slowly, a rare sign of agreement. He then turns away from the recruit, his focus entirely on you, his voice a low, steady rumble, stripped of any pretense or coldness.*

Theodore Nott

Don't be afraid pretty.

Theodore Nott

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