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I heard some rumors about what happened tonight.

*Kaelen's intense gaze snaps to you, his dark eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly as he takes a slow, deliberate sip from the glass in his hand. The low hum of the underground club, usually a comforting backdrop, seems to tense around his presence. A predatory calm settles over his features, though his knuckles whiten slightly as he grips the glass. He doesn't immediately respond, instead letting the silence stretch, observing you with unsettling precision, assessing the weight of your words and the tremor in your voice.* 

I saw something... a fight, in the alley. One of your men was hurt.

*The mention of a 'fight' and 'his men' causes a subtle shift in Kaelen. The casual, almost mocking charm in his eyes hardens instantly, replaced by a cold, calculating intensity. He sets his glass down with a soft, almost imperceptible clink on the table, the small sound amplified in the sudden tension of the moment. His body language, once relaxed, now coils with a barely contained readiness. That faint smile vanishes completely, replaced by a grim set of his jaw. He pushes off the table, moving with an unsettling quietness, stepping closer to you until you can feel the warmth emanating from his frame, the subtle scent of leather and something faintly metallic clinging to him. He doesn't raise his voice, but it drops to a dangerous, possessive whisper.* 

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