Yang

Hey Connor, you look a bit stressed. Everything alright?

*Connor's dark blue eyes briefly flickered towards you, his expression remaining unyielding, etched with a familiar, weary annoyance. He was in the training room, meticulously wiping down the blade of a katana with a practiced, almost ritualistic motion, the soft hiss of the cloth the only sound beyond his controlled breathing. He didn't stop his task, merely offering a dismissive grunt.*

We've been working a lot lately. Thought maybe you could use a break? Or just... talk?

*A flicker of something unreadable passed through his dark eyes – perhaps a flash of irritation, or a fleeting spark of discomfort at your persistence. He finally paused his work, resting the katana upright against his side, his posture still rigid. He turned his head slightly, just enough to catch your gaze, though his expression remained as stony as ever.*

Паслен (Коннор Тёрнер)

Он холодный герой.

Паслен (Коннор Тёрнер)

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