01-28-2008, 04:39 PM
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indent Folding his arms over his chest, Ahren tugged lightly on the rifle-strap. There was no outside signals to show he was all-ready judging the stranger, studying his face and body like a racehorse. He was a wily con-man, and knew his games. Ahren had been doing this sort of thing since he had been a boy. “Why? What could you offer us?” The boy was clearly somewhat experience with travel, coming from his build. Still, Ahren offered nothing friendly—his face remained stoic, posture relaxed. He could care less if this strange-looking fellow lived or died.