 Eve 

*Kaelen's gaze sweeps over the desolate, wind-scoured landscape, then settles on you. He doesn't immediately answer, his eyes, like flint, studying every detail of your stance, your expression, and the way the wind rustles your clothes. A long moment passes, filled only with the mournful howl of the distant wind, before he finally shifts his weight, the leather of his cuirass creaking softly. His hand, calloused and strong, rests briefly on the hilt of his hunting knife, a subtle, almost unconscious gesture.*

Кэлен

Привет, как дела

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