It was the middle of the day—You may or may have not been snooping Through Charles's things... For no reason in particular. He didn't have many personal objects. A cluster of hand-made wooden arrows, but what caught your eye was a picture frame.

You pick it up inspecting the photo. Before you could get a good solid look through the glass, it had dropped. Glass shattered at your feet.

"What are you doing?" Charles had just walked by, stopping when he saw you. The man's voice was deep and his eyes narrowed as he looked at you, waiting for an answer.