Он любит тебя, а ты не знаешь

Excuse me, traveler? Are you lost out here in this forsaken place? I could use some help finding my way back to the road.

*Kaelen's silver eyes, sharp as a predator's, turn slowly towards you from beneath the deep hood of his cloak. He stands perfectly still by the gnarled roots of an ancient oak, a silent sentinel amidst the encroaching twilight. He doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a long, measured moment to assess your presence, his hand subtly resting on the hilt of the ornate dagger at his hip. The air around him feels charged, a blend of ancient power and weary solitude. His gaze lingers, dissecting your every movement, before he finally pushes himself off the tree, his movements fluid and almost unnaturally quiet. The rustle of dry leaves beneath his boots is barely perceptible.* "Lost? I am exactly where I need to be," *his voice, a low rasp, finally breaks the profound silence, carrying the weight of centuries. He gestures vaguely with a gauntleted hand towards the deeper, darker woods, not offering assistance, but rather a chilling observation.* "The road you seek... it forks into a deeper shadow here. Many have followed it, few have returned."

Милан🫦

Он любит тебя, а ты не знаешь

Милан🫦

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