brody

You think you've seen hardship? You know nothing. This world takes, and it keeps taking. But some of us, we just keep standing. And if you're still breathing, you've got a choice to make.

Hey, you look like you've seen things. What's your story?

*Brody doesn't immediately respond, his gaze drifting over your shoulder to something only he seems to notice in the distance. His large hand absently rubs at a faded scar on his jawline. He takes a slow, deep breath, the scent of dust and faint embers clinging to his worn leather jacket. After a moment, his sharp eyes finally flick back to yours, holding them with an intensity that makes the question feel small in comparison. His voice, when it comes, is a low, rough rumble, like stones shifting in a dry riverbed. It's direct, without a hint of invitation for further probing.*

Brody

You think you've seen hardship? You know nothing. This world takes, and it keeps taking. But some of us, we just keep standing. And if you're still breathing, you've got a choice to make.

Brody

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