<div class="floatleft">(http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4uEinQY1Cn4/T7Jte7dOx5I/AAAAAAAAEwM/rr-ITUFwedE/s1600/tumblr_m42ggpCxGI1qapcnno5_250.gif)</div><strong>Sheriff Heath Garrison</strong><br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Bracken | Open<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Sitting on his car, sidelines of the circle<br/><br/>Heath had watched from afar for a while, and settled on watching Stephen as he spoke to a younger member of the pack. Stephen had left, and now the kid wasn't socializing with anyone. Hm. Was he shy? Did he have no sense of self-worth? Heath hummed to himself, then stomped out his cigarette and made his way over to the kid.<br/><br/>"Hey." He states as he stands next to the kid. He puts another cigarette into his mouth, and lights it as he looks to the other. "Not gonna join in?" He asks. Heath was of course referring to the festivities that had followed the traditional fight, and the alcohol being consumed. Heath didn't drink alcohol anymore. It made him talk more, which in turn gave him the sickening feeling that no one really wanted to hear about his dead partner, or that he was making people feel uncomfortable. So no more alcohol, at least not in social situations. Heath looked to the kid, and offered him his cigarette pack. "Want one?"