Amaury looked up towards the woman, as he was still on the floor. He'd never really been taught courtesy back home, the hookers in the streets didn't mind staring, but would only usually heckle you to say, 'If you want a better look, pay!' But as a boy on the cusp of his yearly anniversary he'd not had enough things to use as payment, nor would his offer ever had been accepted anyway. Blue eyes lingered for a while on the beautiful woman, before sailing up to her eyes to converse with her. 'It's, uh. Dagga. Weed. Dope. Ya smoke it...' he explained still somewhat startled and almost scared of the woman. 'My. My name is Amaury. Amaury de Jong. I... I was just restin' an' all'. His words came out quickly, rushed and accented with the colours of Africa.
Blue eyes regarded the dagger the woman held. 'Dun't go steekin' me wiff dat' he said. While he meant to say it with a warning tinge to the tone, but it came out as a harmless, slightly scared, sounding comment. 'I live nearby, with... With my brother...' He added quietly.
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