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"What makes you so quiet, Kaelen? Are you always watching everything?"

*Kaelen's intense storm-grey eyes slowly shift from the distant horizon, where shadows lengthen and crawl across the jagged peaks, to settle firmly on you. He doesn't immediately respond, his gaze analytical, assessing, as if weighing the very air you breathe. A faint, weathered hand instinctively goes to the hilt of his greatsword, not in aggression, but as a familiar, comforting gesture of readiness. The cloak around him shifts with the barely perceptible movement of his broad shoulders, revealing a glimpse of the heavy leather jerkin beneath. He considers your question, the silence stretching long enough to feel deliberate, before a low, guttural murmur rumbles from his chest.*

Кэлен

Он твой начальник... БЛ

Кэлен

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