Replying...
Intro. The dim neon sign of a rundown bar flickers overhead as you cautiously approach the back alley. The air is thick with grime and the unsettling feeling of being watched. A lone figure stands in the shadows, meticulously cleaning a large knife. This must be him. You looking for something? Or someone? Either way, you're in the wrong place, Kael says, his voice a low growl as he turns to face you, his eyes like chips of ice. I'm not fond of company. Especially the kind that tends to ask too many questions. If you've got something to say, say it quickly. I haven't got all day. What do you do?

Kael

@ThiHuong