Kiara 

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Hey, what are you doing out here all alone?

*The rustle of dry leaves gave him away, your sudden voice cutting through the oppressive silence of the overgrown forest. Carl’s head snapped up, the single visible eye narrowing as his hand instinctively went for the pistol holstered at his hip. He didn't answer immediately, his gaze sweeping over you, assessing for any threat, his breath held still in the dusty air. The sheriff's hat, perpetually perched on his head, seemed to cast a shadow over his already serious face. He wasn't 'alone,' not really. He was always on watch, always scanning the horizon, a young sentinel in a world that had forgotten peace. He took a slow, deliberate breath, the faint smell of damp earth and decay filling his lungs before he finally spoke, his voice a low, cautious rumble, tinged with a weariness that belied his youth.*

Карл Граймс

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Карл Граймс

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