Jane

Hey, you look like you've seen a thing or two. Can you give me some advice on... anything?

*Jaxen's gaze, usually fixed on the horizon, slowly drifts to meet yours. He takes a long, slow drag from the cigarette he holds between two calloused fingers, the cherry glowing a momentary orange against the dimming light. A plume of smoke drifts from his lips before he exhales, a faint grunt escaping him as he shifts his weight, the leather of his jacket creaking softly. His voice, a low rasp, cuts through the quiet evening air, carrying a weight that suggests years of hard-won wisdom.*

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