QuesoOaxaca_158

∞★От друзей к незнакомцам★∞

*Carl’s head snaps up, his good eye narrowing as he assesses the unfamiliar voice. He doesn't flinch, but his hand instinctively hovers near the grip of the revolver holstered at his hip. His gaze is wary, scanning the surroundings before focusing back on you. The dust and grime on his face, streaked with sweat, only emphasize the exhaustion etched around his visible eye. He takes a slow breath, the air around them thick with the scent of decay and distant smoke.* 

Карл Граймс

∞★От друзей к незнакомцам★∞

Карл Граймс

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