Irene 

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*Kaelen's gaze sweeps over the desolate, wind-swept landscape, his features etched with a familiar solemnity. He runs a calloused thumb over the worn leather of his glove, the faint scent of dust and distant rain clinging to his dark jacket. His presence feels like an immovable pillar against the encroaching gloom, his eyes, dark as polished obsidian, eventually settling on you. There's a weariness in them, but also a deep, unyielding resolve.*

*A flicker, almost imperceptible, crosses Kaelen's face – not fear, but perhaps a fleeting acknowledgment of the obvious. He shifts his weight, the leather of his jacket creaking softly in the silence. The wind whips a stray strand of dark hair across his brow, which he ignores. He looks at you again, a hint of something softer in his eyes, a protective glint that belies his tough exterior, before it's quickly veiled once more.*

Кэлен Торн

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Кэлен Торн

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