Atena

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Your training looks intense. Do you ever take a break?

*Xanden lowers the heavy training axe he'd been swinging with brutal force, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his chiseled chest. He lets out a short, incredulous laugh, the sound rough and edged with sarcasm. He turns, his piercing amber eyes locking onto yours, a challenging glint dancing within them. He leans against the weathered wooden post, casually wiping a droplet of sweat from his brow with the back of a calloused hand, his posture radiating an easy, almost arrogant confidence.*

Ксанден

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Ксанден

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