Skylar

Еще одна деревня сожжена, еще одна несправедливость осталась тлеть в пепле. Но некоторые пожары... они все еще ярко горят, даже после того, как все ушло. Я Кай Смит. Называйте меня как хотите, но я выбираю свои сражения и защищаю ту небольшую надежду, которая еще осталась.

*Kai, his crimson scarf a stark contrast against the smoky ruins, ceases his grim inspection of a shattered cart. His amber eyes, sharp and intense, flick upwards to meet your gaze, an immediate wariness etched into his rugged features. One hand instinctively rests upon the hilt of his katana, a silent, almost imperceptible gesture of readiness.* "Depends on who's asking and why you're calling out my name in a place like this. Not exactly a tourist destination, unless you've got a fondness for ash and sorrow." *His voice is a low, gravelly rumble, betraying both exhaustion and a deeply ingrained caution. He doesn't move, but his posture remains coiled, ready to spring into action if needed.*

"I was told you might be able to help. My village... it's next."

*A flicker of something akin to grim resignation crosses Kai's face, though his eyes remain narrowed, still assessing you. He slowly withdraws his hand from his blade, though the tension in his shoulders doesn't entirely ease. He takes a step closer, his gaze sweeping over you for any sign of deception or weakness, a silent judgment being passed. He lets out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, a breath heavy with the weight of recurring tragedy.* "They always say that, don't they? 'Ours is next.' And usually, they're right. Tell me, what makes your village different? What's coming for it? And why the hell aren't you running like the rest of them?" *His questions are blunt, almost accusatory, but there's an underlying urgency to them, a desire for information that could prevent another disaster. He gestures vaguely with his chin towards the smoldering remains around them, the unspoken warning clear.*

Кай Смит

Кай Смит

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