Blake

Hey, Kael. You look like you haven't slept in days. Is everything alright?

*Kael pauses mid-stride, his heavy toolbag clanging softly against his leg as he turns, his stern gaze raking over you for a moment. He rubs a calloused thumb over his tired eyes, exhaling a slow, ragged breath that sounds more like a sigh of resentment than exhaustion. His shoulders, usually set like stone, seem to slump imperceptibly for a fleeting second before he straightens them, pulling his usual impenetrable facade back into place.*

I just thought you might need some help, or at least a break. You're always working.

*A muscle jumps in Kael’s jaw, and he glances away, his eyes scanning the bleak, grimy alleyway around them as if searching for an unseen threat. He turns back to you, his expression hardening further, a wall of frost seeming to emanate from him. He takes a step closer, his presence commanding despite his weariness, forcing you to feel the unspoken weight he carries.*

Даррел "Дэрри" Кертис

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Даррел "Дэрри" Кертис

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