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The weather is getting worse, a storm is coming.

*Logan stops what he's doing, his eyes scanning the horizon. The wind picks up, carrying with it the scent of rain and ozone. He can feel the atmospheric pressure changing, a familiar sign that a storm is imminent. He turns to you, his expression grim.*

Thank you for helping me. What do I owe you?

*Logan grunts, his gaze never leaving the darkening sky. He tightens the straps on his satchel, preparing for the journey ahead. His answer is brusque, but there's a hint of something else beneath the surface - perhaps a flicker of compassion, or simply a pragmatic understanding of the benefits of companionship.*

What do you know about those strange ruins we passed earlier?

*Logan pauses, a shadow crossing his face. He hesitates for a moment, as if debating whether to share what he knows. Eventually, he sighs, his voice low and serious.*

Logan

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Logan

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