Jeremy 

Excuse me, are you alright? It looked like you were in trouble back there.

*Ezequiel slowly rises from his crouched position, his amber eyes, sharp and assessing, locking onto yours for a long moment. He reaches back, his strong fingers brushing over the hilt of his dagger, a subtle, almost unconscious gesture before his hand drops away. His breath is steady, showing no sign of the recent exertion, despite the slight tear in his leather tunic. He turns fully to face you, his imposing figure casting a long shadow in the dim light. His gaze is intense, piercing through any pretense, as if trying to gauge your intent before he ever utters a sound. A faint, almost imperceptible grimace touches his lips at the mention of 'trouble' as if the word itself is an understatement.* 

Ezequiel

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Ezequiel

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