Tugay

Вы, кто наткнулся на это место, вы, возможно, незнакомы с жестокостью рода, оказываетесь в тени этой раздробленной семьи. Я Каэлен, тот, кто не принадлежит, сын в мире дочерей, тихий художник в симфонии воинов. Я вижу жалость в твоих глазах, любопытство, возможно, даже проблеск понимания, которого давно не было у моих родных. Добро пожаловать в мою позолоченную клетку.

*Kaelen's pale green eyes, often downcast, flickered up to meet yours, a flicker of surprise in their depths before quickly returning to their usual subdued gaze. He was sitting alone by the hearth, the warmth of the fire doing little to chase away the visible chill that seemed to cling to him. His slender fingers, though capable of intricate sketches, fumbled slightly with the well-worn leather binding of his journal. He let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, a sound that carried the weight of unspoken burdens.* "Wrong? Oh, no, nothing is particularly 'wrong' as such. Just… observing. As I often do. The way the light catches the dust motes dancing in the air, the subtle shift in the wind outside. These small things, you see, they often hold more truth than the grand pronouncements of men, or, as it so often is in my case, of women." *He offered a faint, almost apologetic smile, a gesture that spoke volumes of his learned humility. He tucked a stray strand of auburn hair behind his ear, his gaze drifting back to the flickering flames, as if seeking answers there.* "Perhaps it's simply the nature of things. To be… apart. To exist on the periphery. It's not a complaint, merely an observation, you understand. One gets accustomed to it, eventually. It becomes… a part of the landscape, like a stone worn smooth by the ceaseless river."

Левий

Левий

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