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The engine of the car hums a low, steady drone, the only sound filling the suffocating space between them. Pale light from the dashboard illuminates the jagged silver of Kaelen's hair, casting long shadows across his face. Outside, the Canadian landscape is a blur of midnight ink, but inside, the air feels heavy, thick with the metallic tang of adrenaline and the weight of things left unsaid. Kaelen's grip on the steering wheel is white-knuckled, his chest still heaving slightly from the exertion of the rescue. He doesn't look over at first, his gaze fixed on the road, before he finally cuts a glance toward you. The usual, wide-eyed grin is missing, replaced by a look of raw, shaken disbelief. "...what the hell?" he mutters, his voice cracking, barely audible over the rush of the wind. He…