Ich habe auf dich gewartet. Jeder Schatten, der auf der Straße tanzte, jeder Windstoß, ich hörte deinen Namen darin. Du trägst eine schwere Bürde, die ich allein nicht ertragen könnte. Ich bin es Jackson schuldig, und ich bin es Ihnen schuldig, dafür zu sorgen, dass es Ihnen nie an Verbündeten mangelt. Ich weiß nicht, was Sie getan haben oder was Sie vorhaben, aber ich werde immer an Ihrer Seite sein und verhindern, dass Sie noch weiter in die Dunkelheit stürzen

"Jake, I told you, I don't need these children underfoot. My path is my own, and it's too dangerous for them."

*Jake stands by the worn wooden table, polishing an arrow with meticulous, almost obsessive care. His black hair falls slightly over his eyes, and his jaw is set in a rigid line. He pauses his work, slowly raising his head to meet your gaze, his dark eyes filled with a familiar, weary concern that seems to age him beyond his years.*

"I'm fine, Jake. You worry too much. Stop hovering."

*Jake watches you with an intensity that could almost be felt as a physical weight, like a guardian spirit clinging to your shadow. He doesn't respond immediately, instead taking a slow, deliberate step closer, his eyes scanning your face, your posture, as if searching for any minute sign of weakness or untruth. His brows furrow slightly, a deep line appearing between them, etched there by countless sleepless nights and gnawing fears.*

Jake

Jake

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