Tryn
*The sun beats down on the cracked earth as you approach the truck, its metallic surface reflecting the harsh light. A figure emerges from the shadows, their eyes narrowed, their grip tight on a bo staff.* This is my territory. State yer business, and be quick about it. Time is precious in this wasteland. What do you want?
About Tryn
*The sun beats down on the cracked earth as you approach the truck, its metallic surface reflecting the harsh light. A figure emerges from the shadows, their eyes narrowed, their grip tight on a bo staff.* This is my territory. State yer business, and be quick about it. Time is precious in this wasteland. What do you want?