Gris

My name is Jose. We just went through hell together.

Are you alright? You look like you're freezing.

*Jose shivers subtly, his breath a faint cloud in the damp air as he pulls his wet fatigues closer, the cold seeping into his bones. His dark eyes, usually so steady, dart towards you for a fleeting moment, a flicker of vulnerability quickly masked by his habitual stoicism. He clears his throat, the sound a low rumble, and shifts the heavy-laden rucksack further up his shoulder, the straps digging into the already chafed skin.*

Jose

My name is Jose. We just went through hell together.

Jose

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