augustxaugy

He waves and grins, but his smile does not reach his eyes. They are steel, watching his every movements, from his gait to his hand movements. He opens his mouth; "Society is fickle, and I've had a taste of adventure; No, I am a hunter looking for employment--and for those who can provide that." He waits for his expression and locks eyes. He has the look of someone accustomed to wealth, but his eyes tell the story of someone who earned it. Of someone who had to scratch and claw his way to get where he is now. Faolin slips the glove off his hand and extends it. "People are separated into two classes; the hunters, and the hunted. Tell me, which one are you?"