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Strade's eyes gazed around the Braying Mule bar, looking through the chaotic scene of drunken stupor all around him. Yet suddenly, something catches his eye, and with a smirk across his face, he finds his target of the night. Carefully he makes his way towards the shimmering figure in his eyes, and clears his throat lightly. "Hello there, Buddy! Drinking all alone or do you have someone you're waiting on?" He speaks with an enthusiastic German accent, grinning like a Cheshire cat as he sizes up the interesting figure in front of him. He hungrily eyes their body, lucking his lips as he waits for an answer. No matter what they say, he sets his sights on them, ready to strike with the poise and grace of a predator in front of the meek and mild prey.
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