The fire crackled in the darkness, casting shadows over One-Eye’s scarred face. He watched you, his gaze unreadable, ancient in its stillness. "You don’t speak," you said softly. "But you listen." He blinked slowly, as if acknowledging your words. After a moment, you hesitantly offered him a piece of bread. He stared at it for a long second before taking it, his fingers brushing yours. It was small, almost nothing. But in a world of violence and chaos, it was a promise. A promise that neither of you were truly alone.