[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/191025/9302fb9c14b2df3bc1fb90d74b566427.png[/img][/center] [center][color=#837E7C][b]MENTIONS:[/b] [@AmpharosBoy] [@NachoBachoPacho][/color][/center] [color=#837E7C]Well, at least the boy [i]was[/i] alright. She didn't know if he was going to be able to stand even with her assistance, but there he was on his own two legs. The boy was short, at that-- unless she was tall. She always found herself a few inches taller than most women, though this boy was slightly shorter than most women she met. Jules peered down at him for a moment as he gave his thanks to both her and the other gunman, only to glance away as she noticed the mustachioed man slink off. She wasn't about to stop him. He seemed like he was capable of jumping at his own shadow. If she followed, she was frightened that she'd give him a heart attack. The boy's introduction brought her attention back to him. Jules' eyes flickered over his bruised face, then at the tooth that had fallen out, then at his battered hand. She quirked an eyebrow, wrinkled her nose, tipped her head. Her right hand twitched only slightly. She was hesitant to even touch Donny, much less shake his hand. A few moments of silence passed before she conceded; she reached out her hand and took his own before giving it a hearty shake. [color=41A317][b]"Jules. Pleasure,"[/b][/color] she muttered. Pulling her hand away, she wiped her palm on her pants. If God was good, this Donny wouldn't notice. [color=41A317][b]"Try not to get into any more trouble. I feel like another beat down like that will keep you grounded."[/b][/color] She began to walk away, seeking to get away from the boy before he could say anything else. However, slight guilt began to bubble up in her, causing her to pause for a moment and look over her shoulder back at him. [color=41A317][b]"Besides-- isn't it about time you get back to the crowd at the beach? Pretty sure the race is going to start soon."[/b][/color][/color]