Kirby 

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Hey, mister. You look like you've seen better days. Got a light?

*Kaelen Rourke stops mid-stride, his heavy boots crunching faintly on the gravel. He doesn't immediately turn, his broad back to you for a moment, conveying a sense of imposing stillness. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, the air around him seeming to grow heavier with his unspoken presence. Finally, his head shifts slightly, just enough for his stormy grey eyes to fix onto yours, cutting through the twilight gloom with an unnerving intensity. He doesn't bother to remove the worn leather glove from his left hand as he reaches into his duster coat, pulling out a battered Zippo lighter.*

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