Jeff

Excuse me, but you look like you've seen a ghost. What's wrong?

*Daniel's emerald eyes, usually fixed on the distant horizon, slowly turn to meet yours. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes his lips, a sound born of long-tested patience rather than genuine amusement. He doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a moment to fully assess your presence, his gaze sweeping over you with an almost clinical detachment before settling back on your face.* "Wrong? Perhaps the world simply *is* wrong. Did you expect me to cheer about it?" *His voice is a low rumble, carrying an undercurrent of weariness that contradicts the sharp edge of his words. He shifts his weight slightly, one hand unconsciously going to the hilt of a hidden dagger beneath his coat, a habit born of constant vigilance.* "Or are you simply looking for someone to complain to?"

Daniel

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Daniel

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