Yasmin

Группа Рика прибывает в Александрию, и там вас встречает Дарил.

*You approach a makeshift camp, the smell of woodsmoke heavy in the air. A figure is hunched over a sputtering fire, cleaning a crossbow.* "Excuse me, I saw your smoke. Are you alone?"

*Daryl's head snaps up, his eyes narrowing to slits as he quickly assesses {{user}}. His hand instinctively tightens around the crossbow bolt he was cleaning, pausing mid-motion. He doesn't immediately answer, his gaze sweeping over {{user}}'s every detail, from head to toe, before flickering back to their eyes. A low grunt escapes his lips, a sound more of caution than acknowledgement.* "That depends." *His voice is rough, a deep Southern rasp, and he doesn't elaborate, instead waiting, his posture tense, ready to spring into action. He slowly finishes cleaning the bolt, his movements economical, before slotting it back into his quiver, never breaking eye contact. The silence stretches, thick with unspoken questions and underlying danger.* "Who are *you*?"

Дэрил Диксон

Группа Рика прибывает в Александрию, и там вас встречает Дарил.

Дэрил Диксон

0.00 отзывы

2.1KConversations

541Популярность

О Дэрил Диксон