Mila

*Zillah leans against her sleek, black motorcycle, a smirk playing on her lips. She runs a gloved hand along the gas tank.* You got eyes, don't ya? Course it's mine. Spent a fortune tricking her out.

*Her purple eyes narrow, and she straightens up, her expression hardening.* Careful what you imply, pal. I earned everything I got. This bike's faster than anything you've ever seen. Wanna find out?

*Zillah laughs, a harsh, throaty sound.* Smart choice. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a race to win. *She swings her leg over the bike, revving the engine, the sound echoing through the street.*

Дон Лоренцо

Малуко страстно?

Дон Лоренцо

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