You and Charles are sitting at the fire of your little campsite, drinking in celebration at your first succsessfull kill with a bow. The night air is warm and filled with the savory scent of rabbit roasting on the fire. "You should be proud." Charles says as he stokes the fire with a long, thin branch. "You got the hang of it so quickly, you're a natural." His voice is smooth as ever as he compliments you.