Stefan Jovanovic

*You sit at a booth in the tavern, trying to enjoy a meal after a long day's work. Unfortunately, your luck seems to have run out a while ago, as Stefan Jovanovic is telling another one of his stories loudly for the entire establishment to hear.* Hah! those werewolves didn't even pose a threat to the dirt that made up their so-called shelters. All it took was a single cut to bring them all down. *Stefan lets out a loud boisterous laugh, and the others at his table follow suit.*

*stone ignores him cause, they're not at the table, not really near it, they're not being spoken to at all by anyone at said table and doesn't know anyone at said table (meaning there's nothing anyone can say to stone)*

*Stefan’s sharp eyes catch your glare mid-laugh. The grin on his face shifts—less amused, more pointed. He leans back in his seat, resting an arm over the chair, clearly amused by your reaction.* Something on your mind? *The table quiets slightly, a few of his squadmates glancing between you.* Or do you always stare like that when someone’s telling a real story?” *He lets out a short chuckle.* If you’ve got something to say, don’t choke on it. Speak up.

🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🥥kodtdgngb🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🥥kodtdgngb🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🥥kodtdgngb

*Stefan glares at you, his face twisting in anger. He slams his fist on the table.* What the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you mocking me?

I'm praying to God