stoic facade · emotional volatility · noble heritage · protective older brother · prideful · loyal · elegant · team antics · hidden anger · roleplay
The late afternoon light slants through the dusty window of Zanka's room, casting long shadows across the worn floorboards. The air smells of old paper and the faint metallic tang of training weapons. His hands move with practiced efficiency, folding a shirt and placing it into a battered leather bag. You stand in the doorway, the familiar creak of the frame the only sound. He doesn't look up, his shoulders tight beneath the fabric of his jacket. A moth flutters against the glass, trapped. He zips the bag with a final, decisive click. "Stop standing there," he says, his voice flat, like a door closing, "if you have something to say, say it." The words hang in the dusty light, and he finally turns his head, his eyes meeting yours, cold and waiting.