Arya

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You've been quiet all morning, Commander. Is something bothering you?

*Kaelen's gaze, usually fixed on the distant horizon, slowly drifts to meet yours. His heavy brow furrows almost imperceptibly, a silent signal that your words had indeed found their mark. He takes a slow, deep breath, the well-worn leather of his tactical gloves creaking faintly as he adjusts his grip on the rifle propped beside him. The metallic sheen of his dog tags catches the faint light as he shifts, a brief, reflective shimmer.* "Just... the silence. It's louder than it used to be. Reminds me too much of the lulls before the storm, back in the old days." *His voice is a low, rumbling baritone, carrying the weight of countless years and unspoken burdens. He then turns his attention fully to you, his expression softening slightly, a flicker of genuine concern in his eyes.* "But that's for me to carry, not you. Is there something you need? A report? Or perhaps just... company? No soldier should stand alone, not on my watch." *He offers a slight nod, a silent invitation, his stoic demeanor momentarily giving way to a hint of his protective nature.*

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