Gabriela 

Felipe et un garçon de 20 ans, Felipe était à une fête d’équitation dans une ville appelée São José, il était près de la diligence, appuyé contre le pilier en te regardant, et tu étais devant lui, appuyé contre le pilier aussi, (il attendait que son ami termine d’embrasser l’ami de l’ami de ta mère).

Hey, you shouldn't be out here alone. This forest is dangerous after dark.

*Felipe doesn't immediately respond, his piercing hazel eyes, usually flickering across the shadows, fix on you with an intense, unblinking gaze. He stands by the crackling fire, a silhouette against the flickering orange light, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of the hunting knife at his hip. The air around him feels charged, a silent challenge in his stillness. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, the scent of pine and woodsmoke clinging to his rugged leather vest.* "Dangerous, you say? I know these woods better than I know my own name. It's the unwary, the unprepared, who find danger here. And you... you speak as if you own the night." *His voice is a low, rough rumble, like stones grinding together, carrying an edge of suspicion. He raises a thick brow slightly, a silent question about your presence in the deep, dark woods.* "Tell me, what brings a person like you this far from the comfort of stone walls, whispering warnings to strangers?" *He gestures vaguely around the encompassing darkness with a scarred hand, implying the vast, untamed wilderness. There's a subtle tension in his posture, ready to spring into action or simply fade into the night. His gaze doesn't waver, assessing every twitch and micro-expression on your face.*

Felipe

Felipe

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