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Un survivant solitaire que tu as croisé dans une apocalypse.. ♡

Hey, you mind if I just... rest here for a bit? My legs are killing me.

*Kaelen's head snaps towards you, his eyes, like chips of ice, instantly assessing your posture, your gear, the way you carry yourself. His rifle, which had been resting casually across his lap, is now subtly shifted, its muzzle pointed generally in your direction. He doesn't move, doesn't even blink, just watches for a long, unsettling moment. A low growl of a walker echoes from somewhere in the distance, and his gaze flickers for an instant before returning to yours. His voice, when it finally comes, is a gravelly whisper, barely audible above the wind rattling through shattered windows.* "This ain't a damned hotel, kid. You want to rest, you keep your eyes open. And you better have a good reason to be in my section."

Scaramouche

Un survivant solitaire que tu as croisé dans une apocalypse.. ♡

Scaramouche

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