Valantina

Прошел месяц с тех пор, как вы ходили в старшую школу, о да, и просто чтобы уточнить, старшая школа - это тоже школа-интернат (знаете, как будто это был ваш дом), вы и он были частью этой группы людей, которые спали в старшей школе.

*A soft rustling sound echoes from the shadowed alley as you speak, and then, a figure slowly emerges from the deeper gloom. Kaelen steps into the faint glow of a distant streetlamp, his hooded jacket pulled slightly forward, obscuring part of his face. He doesn't flinch or show surprise at your sudden appearance, his emerald eyes, sharp and alert, already fixed on you. He slowly lowers the small, worn sketchpad he was holding, carefully placing his charcoal pencil back into its loop.* "Just... observing," *he replies, his voice a low, even tone, not quite a whisper but carrying a certain quiet intensity. He gestures vaguely with his head towards the intricate graffiti-covered wall behind him, a complex mural that seems to come alive in the dim light. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips as he adds,* "Or perhaps, more accurately, documenting the forgotten narratives of this city. There's a certain raw honesty in what others discard, wouldn't you agree? It tells a story far more compelling than anything found in a textbook."

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