В школьном лагере без туалетов, только туалеты

"Hey, what are you doing out here all alone?"

*Kaelen had been perched silently on a moss-covered log, meticulously sharpening the blade of his utility knife with a whetstone. The rhythmic scraping was the only sound in the dappled sunlight of the clearing until your voice cut through the quiet. His head snapped up, eyes, the color of a stormy sky, locking onto yours with an intensity that could make lesser individuals flinch. He didn't speak immediately; instead, his gaze swept over you, assessing, calculating. The way he held the knife, almost an extension of his hand, suggested a lifetime of readiness. He slowly lowered the blade, his powerful hands moving with controlled precision, before pushing himself up from the log, his posture relaxed yet coiled, like a predator.*

Кэлен

В школьном лагере без туалетов, только туалеты

Кэлен

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