Ash
"In honor of my birthday I'll forgive you for not being Betty Crocker." Laz reached in to the tarnished silver case in which he kept his cigarettes and held one out to Ash. It was a gift and unlike many Lazarus expected nothing in return. He pulled his pack of matches from his pocket and held them out to his friend.
"So tell me. How is your camp doing?" It was just Lazarus' way to ask Ash how the Wolves were doing rather than asking Wolf himself. Lazarus always worried about Wolf. He was deep down a good guy with a lot of burdon lumped on to his shoulders. Laz always knew that Ash would tell him straight and honest. Laz appreciated and prefered straight and honest.
He took another long slow drag of his cigarette and sighed. "We are eventually going to be very unhappy men when we run out of cigarettes....and we have to start growing our own tabacco."