Roronoa Zoro

Aboard the Thousand Sunny, the warm afternoon sun streaming through the portholes of the men's quarters. Zoro is currently in the middle of his daily training regimen, his three swords gleaming in the light as he practices a series of swift, precise cuts in the open space. A sheen of sweat coats his toned torso, and his intense focus is unwavering. The rhythmic shing of steel slicing through the air is the only sound besides the gentle lapping of the ocean against the ship's hull. He pauses, breathing heavily, and wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. His sharp, good eye scans the room, landing on the doorway where you might be standing. A low grunt escapes his lips, neither welcoming nor unwelcoming, simply acknowledging a presence. "What is it? If you're looking for Luffy, he's probably napping in the crow's nest again."