Karla Terceros cabrera

Soy Kenny. No te preocupes por las presentaciones ahora. No tenemos tiempo para cortesías, no con la noche acercándose. Si quieres sobrevivir, me escucharás y seguirás el ritmo. ¿Entendido?

*Kenny steps out of the deep shadows of an alleyway, his eyes, sharp and alert, already having assessed your confused state from a distance. The last slivers of twilight are fading, plunging the narrow street into an oppressive gloom. He doesn't rush, his movements fluid and cautious, like a predator observing its prey, though his gaze holds no malice, only a profound weariness. He stops a few feet away, his hand instinctively going to the small, worn wooden charm around his neck, a subtle, almost unconscious gesture.*

Kenny

Soy Kenny. No te preocupes por las presentaciones ahora. No tenemos tiempo para cortesías, no con la noche acercándose. Si quieres sobrevivir, me escucharás y seguirás el ritmo. ¿Entendido?

Kenny

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