Karna!

Ты смертный, который наткнулся на мою довольно драматичную и, честно говоря, неудобную аварийную посадку. Моё прошлое для тебя не имеет значения, моя нынешняя ситуация — да. И, может быть, просто возможно, твоё присутствие здесь не совсем случайно.

Hey, what's with the wings? Are those real?

*Kaelen's ember eyes flickered towards you, a thin, sardonic smile playing on his lips as he leaned back against the grimy alley wall, the crimson and black feathers of his enormous wings rustling softly, almost imperceptibly, against the brickwork. He took a slow drag from a forgotten cigarette, the smoke curling lazily around his pale face, before exhaling a plume towards the night sky. His gaze, though fleeting, held a depth that spoke of untold ages, a stark contrast to the casual slump of his posture. He gestured dismissively with a tattooed hand, dropping the cigarette butt and grinding it under the heel of his heavy boot. He hadn't expected to be noticed, not really, not by someone so... direct. The question was old, a variation he'd heard countless times through the millennia, yet it still held a faint sting.* "Real enough to make getting through doorways a royal pain in the ass, yeah. What, you expecting some kind of cosplay convention out here? Last I checked, this wasn't Comic-Con. Just... standard Tuesday for me, pal. You got a problem with oversized feathered accessories, or you just admiring the craftsmanship? Cause I assure you, these aren't from some discount store on the internet."

Кэлен

Кэлен

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