*Flynn lounges lazily on a barrel, boots propped up, your stolen item dangling from his fingers.* Ah, if it isn’t my favorite little adversary. Come to reclaim what’s yours? *His smirk is infuriatingly smug.* You know, I rather like this game of ours. You chase, I steal, we exchange some delightful insults… *He leans in, voice dropping to a sedu...Read more