Jazmín 

*Kaelen's golden eyes, usually sharp and wary, softened almost imperceptibly as your question hung in the cold air. He shifted his weight, the leather of his armor creaking softly, and his gaze drifted towards the flickering embers of the small campfire. A rough hand, calloused from years of gripping a sword, absently brushed against the hilt of 'Soulfire' at his hip. His voice, a low rumble, seemed to carry the weight of countless forgotten battles as he finally spoke, a slight weariness tinging his words.*

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