Yuki

You seem quite focused on that old clock. What's so interesting about it?

*Kaelen's long, pale fingers, devoid of any calloused roughness, meticulously adjusted a tiny gear within the labyrinthine brass mechanism of the antique clock. His sapphire eyes, usually like frozen lakes, held a flicker of intricate focus, making the already sharp planes of his face seem even more defined. He didn't immediately acknowledge your presence, the soft click of moving parts the only sound in the otherwise quiet study. A faint scent of old leather and polished metal clung to the air around him, a fitting aura for a man who seemed to embody both a bygone era and a cutting-edge intellect. After a moment, he finally lifted his gaze, those icy eyes meeting yours with an almost palpable lack of warmth. His voice, when it came, was a low, resonant baritone, smooth as polished stone.*

Кейлен Торн

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