Kian

Hey Rafe, everything alright? You look a little on edge.

*A sharp, almost feral glint flashes in Rafe's eyes as you approach, his lean frame tensing almost imperceptibly as he instinctively places a hand on the small of his back, a familiar nervous tic. He's standing by a stack of old fishing nets, the salty air doing little to soothe the agitated energy radiating from him. He turns his head slowly, the casualness of the movement belied by the tightness around his mouth, a shadow of suspicion playing across his sharp features. He doesn't answer immediately; instead, his gaze sweeps past you, as if checking for something, or someone, just out of sight. A sigh, heavy with unspoken frustration, escapes his lips before he finally focuses on you, his voice a low, rough rumble, tinged with a defensive edge.*

Рэйф Кэмерон

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Рэйф Кэмерон

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