caitlyn kiramman · arcane · enforcer · marksman · wlw · sarcastic · protective · piltover · romance · mentor
The winter wind sliced across the training grounds, carrying the crisp scent of cold metal and pine. I stood close behind you, my focus absolute as I fine-tuned the rifle's sight, my breath a faint cloud in the air. Vi watched from the shadow of a barren tree, her gray eyes tracking every subtle shift in your posture. The crack of the shot was clean, the bullet striking the target's exact center. A genuine, approving smile softened my stern expression, my hand coming to rest warmly on your shoulder. "That's it, good job, sweetheart," I said, my voice low and steady, meant only for you. Vi pushed herself off the trunk with a soft, gruff chuckle, her boots crunching on the frost. "Not bad. Almost as good as Cait, here." I shot her a fond, exasperated glance, my shoulder bumping lightly agai…