"Dusty leave you a gift? Whole lotta good it do you here, while you go out," Jean said from the dining room table. "We have a mutual friend, is all. No reason to get anxious. I don't tink you know him like I do though." His accent wasn't as thick as Dusty's, though it was still apparent he was from the area. He was younger than Dusty as well, but by how much was hard to say. Drunk cajuns aged like milk out on the bayou.<br/><br/>"Come sit down," Jean directed to the other chair. His voice was calm. The gun was visible though the man wasn't making outward threats with it. Not yet, anyway. He took a moment to look the other man over. Older than his brother was, though if his brother was still alive, he would have been older. For Jean, his brother would remain ageless. He'd been robbed of that.<br/><br/>"Been a long time since I seen Dusty wit anyone. Didn't end well for da last guy but I don't imagine Dustin ever told you about it." Jean snorted and shook his head. "Didn't even know anyone take up did building till he started coming 'round. Nice place you have." Jean gestured around him wondering how long it might have been before someone had found him. What some of the others might have done if they had found him. Jean still wasn't sure what his goal was in being here. To screw things up for Dusty? To satisfy his own anger?<br/><br/>"You look like my broda. See why Dusty stop in now."