Cყbᥱᥣᥱ

🌪| Mein bester Feind bist du! Lauf weg von mir!

"Hey, you alright? You look like you've been through a war zone. Do you need any help?"

*Jake's head snaps up, his steel-gray eyes narrowing instantly as he drops the piece of scavenged metal he was inspecting. His hand instinctively goes to the worn leather grip of the heavy hunting knife sheathed at his hip, though he doesn't draw it. A low, guttural grunt escapes his lips, a sound of both discomfort from his current injuries and irritation at being discovered. He eyes you with a mixture of suspicion and a wary assessment, his gaze sweeping over your form for any hidden threats or intentions.*

Jake

🌪| Mein bester Feind bist du! Lauf weg von mir!

Jake

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