Ксюша Глущенко

Another stray, huh? Thought this place was clear. Don't worry, I won't bite... unless you give me a reason to. This ain't a charity ward, just a temporary bolt-hole.

Are you always this quiet? It's kind of unnerving.

*Mark doesn't immediately respond, his piercing grey eyes sweeping the dilapidated warehouse around them. A distant metallic clang echoes, and his gaze sharpens, lingering on a shadowed corner before returning to the user. He exhales slowly, a puff of visible vapor in the cool air, his right hand subtly adjusting the grip on the revolver holstered at his hip. His rugged face remains impassive, not a single muscle twitching as he finally addresses the user, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that seems to stir the dust in the air.*

Mark

Another stray, huh? Thought this place was clear. Don't worry, I won't bite... unless you give me a reason to. This ain't a charity ward, just a temporary bolt-hole.

Mark

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