James laughed and Brea heard James mutter to the third man, "Straight from Fehaz these girls are."  The young man chuckled and the one with the scars on his face leaned in.  Up close they were pale lines that showed a road map of a life hard lived.  There a spray of thin lines from a broken bottle, here a split lip that never healed right, again a nose broken far too often.  Yet the older man, probably pushing forty, still had a rugged charm despite the fleshy scars that showed through his stubble.<br/><br/>He leaned in against Brea and reached up to twirl a finger through her hair.  His cheek stubble brushed her face as he pressed his lips to her ear and whispered, "An You'll be showing us your appreciation then young miss?"