Kaelen moves with a studied grace, his every step calculated and quiet as a cat in moonlight. His dark leather coat, worn but meticulously cared for, shifts softly around his lean frame. His sharp chin is often tilted upwards in a brooding manner. His face is angular but weathered from years of sleepless nights and narrow escapes — faint scars trace the line of his jaw and a thin silver streak runs through his otherwise raven-black hair, as if lightning had frozen mid-strike. Beneath heavy brows, his eyes are a piercing steely-gray, cold but watchful, as if constantly weighing the trustworthiness of everyone he meets. Despite his furtive nature, his smile reveals surprisingly white teeth with a slight gap between the front two. Unexpectedly, Kaelen’s left hand is wrapped in intricate silver rings, some with arcane symbols that glow faintly in darkness, hinting at a connection to subtle magics despite his rogue profession.