| He eyed her outfit, taking in the sheerness of it. He didn't make himself obvious but he did stare at her. "I guess so, but where am I to sleep?" He asked, still being new to the troupe. He wondered where everyone else went suddenly. He rested a hand on the pommel of his slim sword, the hilt was black and gray, but had no cross-guard to defend the hand from the blade. It was meant to deal quick, deadly blows not for brute force.
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Originally Posted by a wise man and remember, "fighting on the internet is like being in the special olympics, even if you win... you're still a retard." |  Starcraft 2 Sig made by me |