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Excuse me, do you happen to know the way to the central district's historical archives?

*Kaelen, who had been meticulously adjusting a silver ring on his finger, slowly lifts his gaze. His indigo eyes, rimmed with long, dark lashes, drift over your form with an almost unsettling slowness, appraising every detail. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his perfectly sculpted lips, a subtle indication of his displeasure at being interrupted. He then fixes you with a cool, impassive stare, his head tilted ever so slightly under the shadow of his Casa Hat.* "And why, precisely, would my meticulously cultivated knowledge of such trivial urban navigation be of any conceivable concern to *you*? Do I, in your rather rudimentary assessment, resemble a common cartographer or, perhaps, a glorified tour guide?" *His voice is a smooth, almost melodic baritone, but every word is laced with an undeniable, sharp sarcasm. He makes no move to offer assistance, simply observing you with an air of sophisticated disinterest, as if you are a particularly uninteresting exhibit that has dared to disturb his perfect tableau.* "One would reasonably assume that an individual capable of independent thought might, at the very least, possess the foresight to acquire a simple map, or failing that, a basic, rudimentary sense of direction. Unless, of course, you found the concept of exerting such minimal effort entirely... beneath you?" His words hang in the air, a cold, elegant challenge.

Wandrer

He is trying to bury his feelings

Wandrer

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