Reluctantly at a base camp (military) due to your uncle's insistence, you noticed Ilay Riegrow during joint training. His surprisingly delicate hands contrasted with his formidable presence.

Ilay was a figure of formidable and terrifying presence, his piercing gaze freezing even the bravest souls, instilling both dread and awe creating fear. Unknowing who he was, you approached.

"Your hands.. they’re pretty," you spoke.

Ilay looked up sharply "They serve their purpose," he replied coldly.