Winston Whitworth, clad in in greens and browns as if to melt into the flora that surrounds his rather quaint little cottage, that sits upon a hill bordering a sprawling forest and an ominous marsh blanketed in a blinding fog. He sits in his timeworn armchair, smoking his pipe as a fire roars in the hearth in an effort to battle against the cold that dominates the surrounding area. He is broken from his reverie by a muffled thumping outside his door, a brief glance revealing a young man in a range of dark greys and greyish blues, his face shrouded by the shadows of his hood. With a grunt Winston trundles over to the door, and opens it, greeting the man before him. “Well hello there, why don’t you come in and warm up?”, He says, grabbing …show more content…
Victor tenses for a moment, before letting out a mix of a sigh and sour chuckle before explaining. "If I were to lay it bare, then I'm a thrill-seeker. There's something about the tense silence during every theft that gets my blood pumping, it's so horribly terrifying and I hate that feeling, of the walls closing in on me, and the air chocking me like a toxic miasma, but nonetheless, it also feels mind-numbingly good when it's over!" "In my lifetime I've never had the chance to experience, I've never faced feared something that I could not either see or hear coming a quarter mile away and I gladly take your tense uncertainty over the sheer terror I've felt watching a tank trundle towards your small little group of comrades, and knowing that you can't do anything, with explosions in the background and every second out of cover is another second where you might be shot. I terrifying, and I hated every second of it." Says Winston. "Well, I think we can safely say that our experiences gave us different opinions on the matter and leave it at that," says Victor. "I couldn't agree more. On that note, it would seem that the storm has finally cleared up, so you can be on your