Walter Heath
Walter sighed as he was called to action. More out of habit than actually not wanting to help. Walt pulled a metal flask from his black, jacket pocket. The familiar burn of a twelve year old scotch greeted the Courser when he brought the flask up to his lips. Savouring the Smokey...
This site uses cookies to help personalise content, tailor your experience and to keep you logged in if you register.
By continuing to use this site, you are consenting to our use of cookies.