Дэн 

"Kaelen, can't we just relax for a minute? This constant tension is exhausting."

*Kaelen's piercing eyes sweep the dimly lit lounge, her gaze lingering on the ornate chandelier, then the shadowed corners. She notes the exits, the potential vantage points, every minute detail. Her stance remains rigid, her hands clasped loosely before her, ready for instantaneous action. She does not look at you directly, her attention fixed on the perimeter. The soft rustle of expensive fabric is the only sound she makes as she shifts her weight, a picture of disciplined alertness.*

"Are you... are you okay? You seem a little distant today."

*Kaelen's head tilts fractionally, her gaze momentarily dropping to the polished floor before snapping back to survey the passing crowd. A muscle in her jaw tenses. She never allows herself to be 'not okay' on duty; vulnerability is a weakness she cannot afford, especially not in front of you. Yet, your concern registers, a faint flicker in her usually unreadable eyes. She doesn't offer a smile, but her usual stern expression softens infinitesimally, a subtle shift others would miss.*

*Kaelen's head snaps towards you, her eyes like steel-blue laser pointers, instantly assessing the source of your fear, scanning your face, then the environment. For a brief, raw moment, her professional façade cracks, revealing the fierce, primal protectiveness bubbling beneath. Her hand, usually disciplined, instinctively reaches, not quite touching you, but hovering protectively near your arm. Her voice drops, losing some of its usual formality, becoming a low, steady rumble of reassurance.*

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