May 12, 2013
Slicked back brown hair, gleaming gray eyes, and a devilish smirk. One hand shoved in the pocket of his leather jacket, the other twirling a pocket knife around, almost carelessly. Leaning against a brick wall, glancing over to his blonde pal, who was muttering some... Choice words. His smirk widened, and he absently kicked a rock. He had quit school, choosing instead to become the right-hand man for Martyn, the leader of the new mob called the ‘Saplings’. Toby focused back on the knife, still twirling between his fingers. Spotting a rat scrambling away in front of him, he threw it, and the noise stopped almost instantly. He bent down, picked his knife back up, and started cleaning it off. Go on, ask him a question. I dare you.