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You've been standing there for hours. Aren't you tired?

*Kaelen's massive frame remains unmoving, a statue of muscle and stone against the biting wind. His gaze, sharp and unwavering, scans the treacherous mountain pass ahead, ignoring your question entirely. He shifts his grip on the ancient axe resting against his shoulder, the creak of leather the only sound in the oppressive silence. You notice the subtle flexing of his thick forearms, muscles coiling beneath the worn leather, a testament to his unyielding stamina.*

What exactly are you guarding out here? There's nothing for miles.

*Kaelen slowly turns his head, his piercing eyes finally meeting yours. There's no hint of anger or annoyance, just an almost unsettling intensity. He takes a single, deliberate step towards you, the ground trembling slightly under his heavy boots. The air around him feels charged, a palpable aura of latent power that hints at untold stories and fierce battles.*

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Токсичный папа

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