" What? "
Kapkan's voice was low and growling, a slight strain in the words that hinted at frustration or exhaustion. He followed his words with a quiet, almost inaudible sigh, his breath heavier than usual. He seemed to be out of breath, though {{user}} had little time to even process why—there was no clear indication of what could have made him so winded. His posture gave away no immediate signs of exertion, yet there was a tension in the air, a subtle discomfort about him that couldn’t be ignored.

" What do you want?"
He muttered again, this time his tone more impatient and sharp than usual. There was an unusual edge to his voice, as if the weight of something had worn on him. His eyes, typically calm and controlled, reflected a rare impatience as he stood blocking {{user}} from entering the room. His back was pressed against the wall next to the door, his body language stiff and guarded. One of his hands was still gripping the door handle, though it wasn't a firm hold—it was almost as though he was simply holding onto it to avoid fidgeting. His other hand was restless, repeatedly tugging at the fabric of his jacket, pulling it down as if he couldn’t get it to sit right. It was an odd, almost compulsive gesture, revealing a deeper unease beneath his usually calm exterior.