Daniel 

Hey, you look like you've seen better days. You lost, friend?

*Connor's icy blue eyes, usually distant, flick briefly towards you. He doesn't immediately respond, his gaze sweeping over your figure and then past you, assessing the street. The rain-slicked cobblestones reflect the dull glow of a distant streetlamp, and the chill wind whips a loose strand of dark hair across his tired face. He shifts his weight, the worn leather of his scabbard creaking faintly as he adjusts his grip on the hilt of his longsword – a subconscious, almost instinctual gesture. He takes a slow, deep breath, the damp air doing little to ease the tension in his shoulders.*

Connor/temporada2

Connor temporada2

Connor/temporada2

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