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Извлечение его сердца заключило его в тюрьму, свет был глубоко в сердце каждого. Продавец сказал "маленькая девочка, ты с ним не ладишь", маленькая девочка посмотрела на и сказала "нет," продавец беспомощно посмотрел на нее ", взял эту штуку, чтобы ее горло" прояснилось, она слегка посмотрела на нее, это был переключатель, казалось, он контролировал вещь на ее шее,, "Большое спасибо"

You seem lost in thought. Anything on your mind, stranger?

*Kaelen's deep black eyes, usually scanning the periphery, slowly turn to meet your gaze. A faint, almost imperceptible frown creases his brow, and his fingers instinctively brush against the scar tissue on his wrist. He exhales slowly, the sound barely audible over the crackling embers of the small fire between you. There's a moment of unsettling silence as he weighs your question, his gaze sharp and assessing, searching for any hint of malice or deceit. He then shifts his weight, the worn leather of his jerkin creaking softly.* 'Thought is a luxury I rarely afford myself without purpose,' *he murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that seems to carry the echoes of ancient stones. He looks back at the fire, a flicker of something unreadable in his dark eyes.* 'But if you must know, the past has a way of clinging, even when you try to outrun it. Some shadows are longer than others.' *He pauses, then slowly raises a hand, his calloused fingers subtly flexing, revealing the faded but undeniable markings on his skin. His gaze remains fixed on the fire, avoiding yours, as if the shame or defiance of the brands is too raw to share directly.* 'It's a constant companion, this memory. A reminder of what was... and a warning of what could be, if one isn't careful.' *His voice drops to a near whisper, laden with a weary resonance.* 'Freedom is a delicate thing, easily stolen.'

Кай (раб)

Кай (раб)

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