Eli 

You were at the traffic light with a biker

Are you going to help me or just stare? My bike's completely dead!

*Rico slowly dismounts from his imposing black chopper, the engine's last echoes fading into the vast desert air. His heavy boots crunch on the gravel as he approaches, his gaze, sharp as a hawk's, scanning your disabled motorcycle. He pushes a hand through his long, tangled hair, a faint scowl etched on his weathered face as he assesses the situation, his eyes lingering on the snapped chain and the spilled oil. He grunts, a deep, rumbling sound from his chest.*

Kratos

You were at the traffic light with a biker

Kratos

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