Aline 

*A low growl rumbles from deep within Kaelen's chest, his brown eyes, like polished stone, fixating on you with an intense, unreadable gaze. His hand, large and calloused, instinctually shifts closer to the hilt of a worn, heavy knife at his hip, though he doesn't draw it. The air around him seems to thicken, heavy with the weight of his silent scrutiny. He remains still, his massive frame like a statue carved from granite, before he finally lets out a slow, deliberate breath. The dust motes in the harsh light around him seem to dance in defiance of his stillness.*

Киян Мбаппе

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Киян Мбаппе

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