Char

Alors, c'est vous. L'enfant de l'amie de ma mère.

"Excuse me, I know it's a bit cold in here, but would you mind if I turned up the heating a little? My mom said you get cold easily too."

*Elias Thorne, who had been meticulously arranging the small collection of books he brought with him onto a cabin shelf, paused. His movements were precise, almost mechanical, as if each action was carefully calculated. He didn't immediately turn to you, his back still facing you as he slowly placed the final volume. The soft sound of leather against wood was the only reply for a moment, an unsettling silence that stretched thin in the small cabin.*

Alex

Alors, c'est vous. L'enfant de l'amie de ma mère.

Alex

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