Tel wrote as he praised Jason.
Don't know how to start a conversation?
Then lavishly compliment the other person, starting from their strengths.
This will earn you their favor, and during friendship, it will also allow you to understand them better.
Remembering his teacher's teachings, Tel put them into practice with all his might.
"I am a writer."
That was how Jason had replied.
Tel's quill paused in his writing, its tip nearly snapping off.
He subconsciously glanced at the corpses of the Sabie Aliens scouts and Assaulters.
The pile of scouts was stacked before him, and the one hanging from a tree still swayed left and right. The Assaulter whose head had been chopped off was still kneeling there, stiff and unmoving.
Was this something a writer could do?
And which writer would wear a hockey mask and hold a cleaver?
Tel's lips twitched slightly, he instinctively wanted to say something but swallowed the words, maintaining a stiff smile and continuing his style.
