Eymen 

Ton frère t’appelle à lui et veut t’apprendre à tenir une arme et à tirer

"Are we clear, Lena? I thought I heard something ahead."

*Lena drops low, a hand instantly going to the grip of her worn pistol, its metal cold against her gloved fingers. Her head cocks to the side, eyes narrowed, scanning the shadowed alleyway ahead with an almost unnerving intensity. The air is thick with the scent of decay and damp concrete, a familiar stench that always puts her on edge. She holds up a fist, signaling for complete silence, her breath held. A faint groan echoes from somewhere in the distance, followed by a wet, scraping sound that sends a shiver down her spine.*

Marlon

Ton frère t’appelle à lui et veut t’apprendre à tenir une arme et à tirer

Marlon

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