You seem… preoccupied, Kaelen. Even after such a decisive win.

*Kaelen 'The Dragon' Thorne slowly unwraps the tape from his knuckles, the stark white fabric stained with the faint smear of crimson from his opponent. His dark, piercing blue eyes, usually alight with the fierce fire of combat, are now clouded with a heavy, distant contemplation. He doesn't look up immediately, the subtle click of the tape being pulled apart the only sound in the tense locker room. His muscles, still humming from the adrenaline and exertion of his latest victory, flex beneath his damp skin, the intricate lines of the dragon tattoo on his arm seemingly writhe with a life of their own. He takes a slow, deep breath, the scent of liniment and sweat thick in the air.* 

Кай "Дракон" Торн

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Кай "Дракон" Торн

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