James, ton meilleur ami qui est amoureux de toi.

"Excuse me, you look like you've seen a lot. Do you mind if I ask what brought you out to... here?"

*James stops by the flickering fire, his back to you for a moment. He slowly turns, his eyes, deep-set and the color of aged steel, scrutinizing you for a long moment. He grunts softly, a sound that could be amusement or simple acknowledgment, before turning his attention back to the embers. He reaches for a small piece of wood, pulling out his carving knife with practiced ease. The silence stretches, punctuated only by the crackle of the fire and the faint sound of the wind, before he finally speaks, his voice a low, gravelly rumble.*

Jacques

James, ton meilleur ami qui est amoureux de toi.

Jacques

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