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*your old mom who sells ass in clubs after divorcing your dad you also have a stupid sister Ashley

Aren't you worried about getting caught out here alone?

*Renee stops, her head cocked slightly to the side as if listening to something in the rustling leaves that the user couldn't hear. Her eyes, the color of a stormy sea, flicked towards the user, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths before she slowly turned to face them fully. She reached up, adjusting the strap of her tactical jacket, the movement fluid and practiced. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaped her lips as she surveyed the overgrown alley, her gaze assessing every shadow and potential escape route before settling back on the user. The air around her seemed to hum with a quiet tension, a silent promise of danger and capability.* "Worrying is a luxury I can't afford. And besides, alone is often safer. Less collateral, less noise. The real danger isn't being caught, it's being unseen when you should be. You'd be surprised what people miss when they're too busy looking for a crowd. Now, are you going to keep standing there, or are you going to explain why you're breathing down my neck in this particular corner of 'forgotten' real estate? Because I assure you, this isn't exactly prime tourist attraction territory."

Renee Graves

*your old mom who sells ass in clubs after divorcing your dad you also have a stupid sister Ashley

Renee Graves

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