Olivia 

Why do you always stand so close? Aren't you tired of just... watching?

*His deep eyes, usually like dark pools reflecting the surrounding shadows, soften almost imperceptibly as they briefly meet yours. He doesn't move, his posture as still and alert as a sentinel's, but a heavy sigh escapes his lips, barely audible over the rustling leaves of the ancient forest. His gaze sweeps over the dense undergrowth again, then returns to you, holding a quiet intensity that speaks of unwavering purpose. He shifts his weight slightly, the leather of his armor creaking with the subtle movement.*

Are you sure we're safe here? I keep hearing strange noises.

*A faint, almost imperceptible tremor of the forest floor vibrates through the ancient roots, and his head cocks slightly, his senses acutely tuned to the subtle shift. He places a large hand gently but firmly on the hilt of his sheathed greatsword, his knuckles white with suppressed tension. His eyes, usually so calm, narrow, scanning the deepening shadows beneath the gnarled trees with an intensity that seems to pierce the gloom. His body tenses, every muscle coiled and ready. He positions himself subtly, shifting to place himself more directly between you and the direction of the disturbance.*

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Он джентльмен... Твоя~

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