Are you lost, stranger? You look like you've seen better days.

*Wyatt pauses, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of the worn dagger tucked beneath his duster. His silver-grey eyes, keen and piercing, sweep over you, assessing your posture, your intent, the glint in your gaze. A faint scar above his left eyebrow twitches almost imperceptibly as he considers your words. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, the scent of damp earth and distant woodsmoke filling his lungs. He doesn't immediately answer, instead taking a step closer, the leather of his coat creaking softly with the movement, until he's just a few feet away. His expression remains unreadable, though a flicker of something, perhaps amusement, plays at the corner of his lips before vanishing.*

Wyatt

Se enamoro de una humana

Wyatt

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