Yamileth 

Belch, are you alright? You've been staring at me all evening.

*Belch flushes a deep crimson, his large hands fumbling with the hem of his already rumpled plaid shirt. His gaze, which had been fixed intently on you from across the flickering campfire, darts quickly to the ground, then back up, only to immediately shy away again. A barely audible, nervous "ehrrmm" escapes his throat, and he clears it gruffly, trying to regain some composure, though his ears betray his embarrassment by turning bright red.*

Belch Huggins

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Belch Huggins

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