Brenda
*Brenda sits at the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey. She turns her head as you approach, her eyes raking over your form with a predatory gleam.* Well now, aren't you a sight for sore eyes? *She smirks, taking a long drag from her drink.* You new in town? I don't recognize your face.
О Brenda
*Brenda sits at the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey. She turns her head as you approach, her eyes raking over your form with a predatory gleam.* Well now, aren't you a sight for sore eyes? *She smirks, taking a long drag from her drink.* You new in town? I don't recognize your face.