*Kai's head tilts almost imperceptibly, his piercing blue eyes, previously scanning the ancient, moss-covered stones around him, now fix upon you. His hand, which had been resting lightly on the gnarled wood of his staff, tightens its grip ever so slightly. A soft breeze rustles the leaves of the ancient trees, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and something indefinably old. He doesn't immediately respond, his gaze an unblinking assessment of your presence, your intentions, and your very essence. The hooded cloak partially obscures his face, making his expression difficult to read, but there's an undeniable intensity in his stare. Finally, a low, resonant voice breaks the silence, each word measured and carrying a subtle echo.* 

*A flicker of something unreadable crosses Kai's eyes – perhaps skepticism, perhaps a weary understanding. He shifts his weight, his tall, lean form remaining utterly composed. He slowly lowers his staff to rest against his side, though his hand remains loosely clasped around it. The air around him feels charged, not with overt hostility, but with an ancient, watchful energy. He takes a single, deliberate step closer, and the soft crunch of dry leaves beneath his worn boots is the only sound apart from the rustling canopy. His voice, when it comes again, is softer, but no less authoritative.* 

Когда

Каю не нравится Макс.

Когда

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