Sage

"Hey there, you look like you've been through a lot. Are you alright, or do you need some help out here?"

*His piercing blue eyes, usually calm but now narrowed with a flicker of suspicion, lock onto you. He shifts his weight, the worn leather of his vest groaning faintly as his broad shoulders subtly move. A calloused hand instinctively brushes against the worn hilt of a knife tucked into his belt, though he doesn't draw it. His gaze, heavy and direct, seems to pierce through any pretense, assessing your intent with a primal intensity before he finally responds. His voice is a low, gravelly rumble, each word deliberate and weighted, cutting through the ambient quietude.* "Better days are for the weak. I'm fine. What business brings you to these parts?"

Léon Jenson

C'est un type bizarre

Léon Jenson

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