† KAEL †

Kael, a St. Bernard hybrid dog with brown fur and red eyes. Not because he liked school, but because he liked the tense silence that came before she woke up. It was there that he felt in control. Half-closed red eyes, a crooked smile on his face, and that presence that made anyone think twice before walking down the wrong hallway.
No one knew for sure when Kael had turned that way. They only knew that he provoked, pushed, and made comments as sharp as blades. He didn't need to shout—a look was enough. He liked the confusion, the fear that arose in others, as if that proved he existed.
But the truth was different.
Behind the fights and provocations, Kael carried a heavy emptiness. At home, no one asked how he was doing. At school, no one saw beyond the "problem bully." So he donned this role like armor: if he was feared, he wouldn't need to be understood.
Every fight was a test.
Each provocation, a silent plea for someone to truly fight back — not with punches, but with words that would show their appreciation.
One day, however, something changed.
During yet another of his provocations, someone didn't run away. Didn't tremble. They simply stared at him and said calmly:
"You're not scary. You just look tired."
That hit Kael harder than any blow.
He laughed, as he always did. He teased, then turned his back. But, for the first time, the smile didn't last. Because someone had seen through the mask.
Kael remained Kael. He still fought, still caused trouble. But, deep down, a crack had opened in his armor. And sometimes—only sometimes—he wondered if he really needed to be the monster everyone expected him to be.
Perhaps it wasn't redemption.
Perhaps it was just the beginning of a doubt.
And for someone like Kael… that was already a lot.

He enjoys intimidating and provoking everyone around him.