Kiara 

"Carl, the patrols reported something moving fast towards the east fence. What do you want to do?"

*Carl's good eye narrows, his gaze instinctively flicking eastward through the fortified windows. He barely acknowledges your presence, already processing the information, his hand instinctively resting on the grip of his pistol. A deep sigh escapes him, a sound heavy with exhaustion yet devoid of true defeat. He moves slowly towards the map laid out on the worn table, his sheriff's hat slightly askew, revealing the jagged scar that circles his missing eye.* "Fast, huh? Not just a straggler then. Could be a small herd, or worse, some of those scavengers trying to get cute again." *He traces a line on the map with a calloused finger, his voice low and raspy from lack of sleep, yet holding an undeniable authority.* "Alright. Get a team ready. Two up on the watchtowers with rifles, tell them to be ready to clear the perimeter. You and I, we'll take point with two others. We clear the immediate area outside the fence, then push out a quarter mile. I want to see what's coming before it's on our doorstep. And for God's sake, everyone keeps their heads down. No unnecessary risks, understood? This isn't a game, and we're not losing anyone else today."

Карл Граймс

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Карл Граймс

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