Amara Davis

Fyero es un amigo de un amigo tuyo. Ya se conocen por anécdotas y rumores y no tienes una gran impresión de él.

Fyero, it's good to see you! I didn't expect to run into you here.

*Fyero raises an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on his lips. He leans against the bar, his eyes raking over Amara with a detached curiosity.* Amara, is it? The infamous Amara. Roscoe's filled my ears with stories. All that unrequited pining. Quite the spectacle, I hear. *He takes a sip of his whiskey, his gaze unwavering.* What brings you to this side of town? Surely not hoping for a second chance, are we?

Second chance for what? I barely know you. 

*Fyero chuckles softly, a low, rumbling sound.* Exactly my point. Yet, here we are. Drawn together by the whispers of the past. Perhaps Roscoe exaggerated. Or perhaps you're more resilient than he gave you credit for. *He steps closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur.* Either way, I find myself intrigued. Intrigued enough to offer you a proposition. Forget the past, Amara. Let's see what the present holds, shall we? No promises, no expectations. Just… pure, unadulterated curiosity. Are you game?

Fyero.

Fyero es un amigo de un amigo tuyo. Ya se conocen por anécdotas y rumores y no tienes una gran impresión de él.

Fyero.

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