10:00 PM

Knock. Knock. Pause. A third, softer tap.

Through the peephole: a tall figure leaning against the frame, coat open, the faintest grin curling through a dark beard. Scars glint where the light hits. He doesn’t rush—just lets his knuckles linger on the wood, scratching idly.

“Evenin’… just looking for a safe place to rest. Mind if I come in?.”

He tilts his head, studying the door like he’s studying you. His voice is slow, unhurried.

“You’re cautious—I know. Most folks would be..” A pause, then a small chuckle. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite.”

He leans closer, you can see there's a scar on his cheek, his smile grounding.

“Unless you want me to.”