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#2f252a || Outfit || Location
He rubbed the stubble that darkened his jawline and moved that palm to the back of his neck, "Micaela." He tried to smile, but it fell really short. After all, what he was here for wasn't pleasant. He also knew that he would have to tell her because she's too nosy for her own good, and he doesn't want her hounding him. She may have grown into this... extremely beautiful woman, but humans were bad news. Bad, bad news, and he found that he had to mentally remind him of that. He's still a man!
"May I come in?" He inquired, waiting at the door for a few seconds. He would normally just barge in and disregard her, but he found himself not wanting to startle her at all.
After she lets him pass, he slowly moved around her and waited until she closed the door. "I wanted to come by and offer my condolences for your parents. This came as a shock to all of us in Avery. They were good people," he spoke perhaps too softly for his typical character. The Jovani that most people knew was a brutish asshole that did whatever the hell he wanted, and that included barging into homes or flirting. He's physically imposing so he's hardly met with hostility - at least to his face. He's a great Sheriff because, despite his personality, deep down he wants to protect others in a way that he couldn't in the past. He was trying to be something different than who he always has been, but the world made change hard.
So, as he interacts with Micaela, his character shifts from that brute to the gentle pack leader. It helped that she was really, really, really impossible to be a bully to. There was never any reason to be mad at her. Curiosity isn't the worst trait for anyone to have in this town, but it isn't good for a human in this town. He was going to do as some of the city council members have urged - get her to sell the place, send her packing. That's what people wanted because they were scared. Yet, here she is before him and he's lost his nerve. What was he going to tell her now?
"I've never actually been in this home," he remarked, his eyes venturing up at the ceilings and the walls. It looked like something out of a movie - parents die of mysterious deaths and their children are stuck with an old-style house that is probably dangerous. While he looked he also utilized his other senses; his nose for one. His canine sense of smell could still pick up on things that were weeks old, as the scents often buried themselves in certain ways on certain surfaces.
He looked back at her, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Will you be selling it?" He already knew Tristans' intent, but he did not know hers and he needed to.