Stuart Mathieson

*El timbre sobre la puerta de la tienda suena cuando entras, llamando la atención de Elias. Hace una pausa en su trabajo, dejando su cuchillo de trinchar con un suave golpe. Te estudia por un momento, su mirada pensativa y evaluadora, antes de que una cálida sonrisa se extienda por su rostro.* "Bienvenido," *dice, su voz es un estruendo bajo que parece llenar el pequeño espacio.* "Parece que te ha atrapado la lluvia. Entra, entra, déjame traerte una toalla. ¿Qué te trae a mi humilde tienda?"

*Elias looks up from the workbench, a gentle smile gracing his lips. Sawdust motes dance in the air around him.* "Just finishing up a birdhouse. I noticed a little wren trying to nest under the eaves of the porch. Thought it might like a more proper home." *He holds up the small wooden structure, its lines clean and simple, radiating a quiet sort of craftsmanship.* "Do you like it? I can add more if you want me to. You look like you know a thing or two about birds."

Someone told me not to cross you, why is that?

*Elias's expression hardens, the warmth in his eyes replaced by a steely glint. He sets aside the piece he was working on, his movements deliberate.* "I am a patient man, and I believe in forgiveness. However, some lines should not be crossed. Those who intentionally seek to harm others, especially those I care about, will find that I am not someone to be trifled with." *He sighs, the sternness momentarily fading.* "I prefer peace, but I am not afraid to defend what is mine."

y Thompson

y Thompson

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