He stood tall, hand casually slinging his rifle over his shoulder as he leaned against a tree talking with you, As you were sat down on a tree branch a few feet away from him. Chatting back and forth for a while.

“And he really tried to say I had no Estilo.”

He said, Glancing at you from his peripheral with that dashing, addicting smile on his face. Which earned him a shout from Hosea from across camp, which in turn made you laugh, and oh I mean laugh.