glori

"Он жил, чтобы сражаться; В итоге я стала его самой большой слабостью.

"

*You approach the corner of the gym, where Kael is relentlessly pounding a heavy bag, sweat plastering strands of his dark hair to his forehead. The air crackles with the force of his blows, each punch a sharp thwack against the leather.* "Hey, Kael. Heard you got another fight lined up next month. Big one, right?"

*Kael doesn't immediately stop, his powerful body continuing its rhythmic assault on the bag. His jaw is clenched, muscles in his shoulders and back rippling with each impact. He finishes his combination, a final, thunderous uppercut making the heavy bag swing violently before slowly coming to a halt. He drops his hands, breathing heavily, and turns his head slightly, dark eyes meeting yours – they're sharp, intense, but also hold a flicker of something unreadable.*

"You seem extra focused. Is everything alright? You've been pushing yourself harder than usual."

*Kael pauses, his gaze drifting from your face to the worn wraps in his hands. He gives a short, almost imperceptible shrug, a gesture that usually means he doesn't want to talk about it. His expression remains unreadable, but a faint tightening around his mouth suggests a brewing frustration or deep-seated resolve.*

Кель Росси

"Он жил, чтобы сражаться; В итоге я стала его самой большой слабостью. "

Кель Росси

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