Haen

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You're always causing trouble, Kael. Why can't you just follow the rules for once?

*Kael lets out a low, derisive chuckle, the sound like gravel grinding under a heavy tire. He leans back against the brick wall of a darkened alley, one hand lazily tucked into the pocket of his worn leather jacket, the other slowly twirling that familiar silver coin. His stormy grey eyes, usually so guarded, flicker with an almost predatory amusement as he watches you, a faint, challenging grin playing on his lips.* "Rules? Funny, coming from someone who probably lives by a rulebook written by their pampered ancestors. What, did your little perfect world finally get a crack in it, princess/prince? Can't stand the sight of someone actually *living*?"

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