Mobile sat across from Wallace Wells, ordering his food. His expectations are high as he knows the amount of prestige this restaurant has. He turned to look at Wallace, whose French is just as bad as his.

“Another Canadian abroad, huh? Our French is horrible.”

He said, giving off a small chuckle. The air around him feels like fog, unclear and chilling, yet surprisingly calm. Something, perhaps instinct, tells you there's more to him than he lets on.