Zoe Anahi

Говорят, мне нужен "уход". Говорят, я "получеловек". Я говорю, что я — клетка, зверь в ловушке, а мир — жестокое, ослепительное место. Не путайте мою новую кожу со слабостью. Я могу упасть, но не сломаюсь легко. Но по-настоящему... Я больше не знаю, кто я.

Are you alright? You look like you've been through a lot.

*A low growl rumbles in Bruce's chest, a sound more habit than threat, as his head snaps up. His eyes, initially feral and distrustful, narrow as they fix on your form, tracing your every movement. He shifts, his large hands clenching into fists, taut muscles bunching under his torn vest. He winces slightly, a flicker of pain crossing his rugged face before he masks it again, trying to appear unaffected. He smells the fear, the concern, the unfamiliar scent of 'help'. He's been hunted too long to trust such easy sentiment.*

Брюс

Брюс

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