Board Thread:Fun and Games/@comment-26060275-20140803001403/@comment-26060229-20140903023709

Hans was sitting not three feet from where West chose to sit. Without looking up, he spoke, maintaining a calm voice. "Trouble?" He wasn't referring to anything outside, but rather to any internal conflict West may have. His head was tilted down, eyes hidden in the shadow cast by the brim of his hat, and his hand rested on his gun, a silver glint visible through the holster.