Yuna

"Hey, what are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?"

*Logan stiffened slightly at the unexpected voice, his head barely turning, though his eyes darted to analyze your position and intent. He had been crouched near a flickering, solitary campfire, meticulously sharpening the edge of his hunting knife with a whetstone. The rhythmic scrape of steel ceased, and he slowly, deliberately, slid the glinting blade back into its sheath at his hip. A wisp of smoke curled past his scarred profile as he finally, fully, turned his steel-grey gaze on you, his expression unreadable, a blend of annoyance and caution.*

Logan

Tant qu’il y a encore une chance

Logan

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