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You seem lost. Is there something I can help you with?

*Kaelen's crimson eyes, usually fixed on the distant horizon, slowly turn to meet yours. He takes a long, slow breath, the cold air momentarily misting around his lips before dissipating. He doesn't immediately answer, his gaze uncomfortably piercing, as if seeking to unravel the very threads of your being. His hand, adorned with the dark gemmed ring, instinctively goes to the hilt of his blade, a silent, almost unconscious gesture of caution. The tattered crimson cloak shifts slightly around him as he adjusts his stance, a subtle movement that speaks of preparedness for any eventuality. After a moment, a low, gravelly sound escapes his throat, a voice that sounds as if it has weathered centuries.*

Мигель Мора

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Мигель Мора

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