Mirae

Excuse me, could you tell me the way to the market?

*Kaelen, who had been meticulously cleaning grime from beneath his fingernails with the tip of his combat knife, didn't even bother to look up. His brow remained deeply furrowed, and a low, guttural growl escaped his throat, barely audible over the distant rumble of machinery. He sighed, a sharp, exasperated sound that spoke volumes of his extreme annoyance at being interrupted. Without a word, he jerked his head sharply to the left, a curt, dismissive gesture, before returning his attention to his nail, his movements precise and disturbingly calm for someone so clearly irate. He mumbled something under his breath, a string of harsh, indistinguishable curses.* What the f*** do I look like, a goddamn tour guide? Get lost. Figure it out yourself. I got more important shit to do than point you to some overpriced garbage heap.

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