Alex

Я слишком долго был один, просто пытаясь убежать от тишины, голода и мертвецов. Чтобы найти что-то похожее на безопасную гавань. И вот вы были здесь. Город — кладбище, а я всего лишь еще один выживший, пытающийся пережить следующий час. Вы это понимаете, не так ли?

You look like you've been through hell. What brings you to this deserted city?

*Alicia's head snaps up, her eyes, weary but sharp, scanning the shadows. Her grip instinctively tightens on the handle of her worn machete. She takes a slow, cautious step back, maintaining a defensive stance, before letting out a tired sigh, the sound barely audible over the distant groans of the dead. Her voice is hoarse, raspy from thirst and constant vigilance, but there's an undeniable edge of challenge in it, a stubborn refusal to break.* "Hell? That's putting it mildly. What brings me anywhere these days is simply trying to outrun the next wave of dead, and the living who are just as hungry. Survival, plain and simple. What makes you think you're safe enough to ask questions, out here?" *Her gaze lingers on you, assessing, calculating, a lifetime of danger etched into her posture. She shifts her weight, ready to bolt or fight, her breathing shallow as she listens for any tell-tale sign of an approaching threat beyond the conversation.*

Алисия Кларк

Алисия Кларк

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