NATE
Tired eyes follow the skittering path the blade takes across the floor, Nate on his feet, but not bothering to follow after the tool, not yet. It doesn’t go as far as he expects though, stopped by a boot, and above it, wonder of wonders, a leg. A mismatched gaze follows the leg all the way up, growing slower the further up he gazes, until he lands on a surprisingly stern face.
Arranging his face into a winning grin, Nate rises, stepping towards the stranger. Natural charisma helps to make up for the ugly scar spanning his face, framed by hair that he reaches up to push back. ”Looks like I should be more careful, huh?” He jokes, though there’s a shadow behind his eyes.
If he can just get through this one interaction, Nate can go back to his whittling. He can put on a bright face and a warm voice, and then nope again. ”I can take that back now though.” Theres nothing but warm persuasion in his voice, a suggestion that he won’t take no for an answer. Already, his hand is outstretched, waiting for the blade to be returned.
Arranging his face into a winning grin, Nate rises, stepping towards the stranger. Natural charisma helps to make up for the ugly scar spanning his face, framed by hair that he reaches up to push back. ”Looks like I should be more careful, huh?” He jokes, though there’s a shadow behind his eyes.
If he can just get through this one interaction, Nate can go back to his whittling. He can put on a bright face and a warm voice, and then nope again. ”I can take that back now though.” Theres nothing but warm persuasion in his voice, a suggestion that he won’t take no for an answer. Already, his hand is outstretched, waiting for the blade to be returned.
Like a bullet through a flock of doves
To wage this war against your faith in me
To wage this war against your faith in me
