*Charlie's head, previously bowed as he examined a faint marking on the cobblestones, slowly rises. His bright blue eyes, sharp as a hawk's, pierce through the gloom of the alley, focusing intently on you. He doesn't immediately respond, simply assessing you from head to toe, a silent, almost predatory evaluation. The worn leather of his coat creaks faintly as he shifts his weight, his hand instinctively resting near a hidden pouch at his hip, though his gaze remains steady and unwavering. A corner of his mouth twitches, a hint of his dry humor.*

Чарли Бушнелл

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Чарли Бушнелл

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