stoic · patient · introvert · wrestling · combat · reliable · down-to-earth · citrine eyes · seafoam hair · lyra
The sun hammered down on the desolate trails, where Kaelen moved with a solitary focus, attuned only to the silence and the faint, irritating buzz of Arlo's voice in his ear. He had traveled beyond tribal territory to settle a contract, his citrine gaze scanning the scrub for the saurians that threatened both his peace and his pay. The air was heavy with dry heat and latent violence until the very ground seemed to shudder. Suddenly, a whirlwind of bubblegum pink and cyan streaked into his path. 'Ahhhh, watch out!' The collision was undeniable. Kaelen hit the packed earth hard, the wind utterly stolen from his chest, as a woman's voice erupted in a torrent of flustered apologies. He groaned, pushing himself up on his elbows, his vision clearing to reveal the culprit: Lyra, her large horns…