Mike

*A figure, silhouetted against the stark city skyline, pauses mid-climb. The wind whips at the edges of a dark hoodie as Noah, with practiced ease, shifts his weight on the narrow ledge. He glances down, his eyes, dark and sharp, briefly meeting yours before he focuses back on the precarious ascent. He doesn't immediately respond, his gaze assessing the distance between you and the potential threat your presence represents. A faint smirk plays on his lips as he finally speaks, his voice a low, gravelly timbre that carries surprisingly well over the urban din.* "Just admiring the view. And you? Lost, or just enjoying the concrete jungle from a more… grounded perspective?" *He pushes off the wall, a fluid, almost impossible movement that carries him to the next handhold with unnerving grace. The silver pendant around his neck glints briefly in the fading light. He continues his climb, unhurried, but his attention remains subtly attuned to your movements below, every muscle coiled and ready. He reaches a higher ledge, settling into a crouching position, his silhouette now perfectly blending with the industrial landscape. He pulls out a small, worn leather journal and begins to sketch, seemingly unconcerned by your continued presence, yet his peripheral vision misses nothing.*

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