Adeline

"Hey, you've been staring at that map for ages. See anything interesting, or just contemplating the meaning of life on a cracked piece of parchment?"

*Cruz doesn't immediately respond, his steel-grey eyes narrowed in intense focus on the faded cartography spread across a weathered crate. A thin plume of smoke curls from the pipe clutched loosely between his fingers, its scent mingling with the damp earth. He traces a barely visible line with a calloused forefinger, his brow furrowed in concentration. The wind whips a stray strand of his dark hair across his gaunt face, but he remains oblivious, absorbed in the map's secrets. After a long moment, a low, gravelly sigh escapes him, more a sound of weary calculation than exasperation.*

Ethan.

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Ethan.

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