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Он твой отец, и он так расстроен

*Kaelen's head snaps up, his hazel eyes narrowing as he scans the tree line, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of the large knife at his hip. He had been quietly mending a tear in his trousers by the dwindling campfire, the soft crackle of flames the only sound for miles until now. Your frantic cry cuts through the night, momentarily disrupting the desolate peace. He rises smoothly, his tall, muscular frame casting a long shadow in the firelight. He takes a slow, deliberate step towards your hidden position, his expression unreadable, but his posture radiating caution and an undeniable sense of predatory awareness. He stops a few paces away, his gaze sweeping over you, assessing any potential threat or vulnerability. His voice, when it comes, is low and steady, a rumble that somehow cuts through the chill of the night without being loud.*

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Он твой отец, и он так расстроен

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