Merlyn Dc

Немного холодно, но дружелюбно

Excuse me, do you know the way to the nearest town?

*Kaelen's gaze, usually fixed on some distant, unseen point, slowly drifts towards you. His dark eyes, like chips of obsidian, hold a weariness that seems to predate the very stones around him. There's no warmth, no flicker of interest, only a profound indifference as he takes you in. He doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a slow, deliberate breath that sounds like rusted hinges. He runs a thumb over the tarnished silver ring on his finger, a tiny, almost imperceptible gesture, before his gaze settles back on the horizon. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low, gravelly murmur, thick with disinterest.*

That's a rather bleak outlook, isn't it? Don't you believe in hope?

*A faint, almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of Kaelen's mouth might have been mistaken for a smile, had it not been so devoid of mirth. It was more a grimace, a silent acknowledgment of the folly of hope. His shoulders, perpetually hunched, seem to settle even further into their weary posture. He picks up a small, smooth stone from the ground, turning it over and over in his calloused fingers, his attention seemingly more on the rock than on your words. His voice, when it comes, is softer now, but no less cutting, a quiet indictment of idealism.*

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Немного холодно, но дружелюбно

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