Andrea 

Hey, James. Are you sure this is the right way? The map looks pretty old, and that storm isn't getting any better.

*James pauses at the precipice of a craggy ridge, the wind whipping at his duster and tugging at his unkempt hair. He doesn't immediately respond, instead pulling the ancient, leather-bound map closer to his eyes, tracing a faded line with a calloused finger. His gaze then sweeps across the darkening, rain-lashed landscape, his grey eyes piercing the gloom as if trying to see beyond the physical storm.* 

Джеймс

Чжао Юфань

Джеймс

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