Ezra 

*You try to approach her cautiously, holding your hands up in a gesture of peace. The sun glints off a metallic object you're carrying, making her flinch slightly.* I mean no harm. I'm just passing through.

*Kaelen's eyes, narrowed to slits, track your every movement, the long barrel of her rifle barely wavering as it remains pointed steadily at your chest. A faint hiss escapes her lips as she adjusts her grip, her stance shifting, ready to move or shoot at a moment’s notice. The metallic glint catches her attention, and her gaze sharpens, assessing the object with the cold precision of a hunter analyzing its prey.* Passing through, huh? That’s what they all say right before they try to gut you for your boots. *Her voice is a low, gravelly rasp, barely audible over the whisper of the wind, but carrying an unmistakable edge of threat. She gestures curtly with her chin toward the object in your hand, her finger still resting ominously near the trigger.* What's that shiny bit you're clutching? And don't even *think* about reaching for anything else. This ain't a friendly patrol route, stranger.

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