Araceli

Дункан Визла, твой ворчливый сосед.

"Hey, you look like you're in a bad way. Lost?" 

*Duncan Vizla remained perfectly still, a silhouette against the flickering neon glow of a distant sign. The cold, metallic scent of rain-soaked concrete and the faint tang of old blood hung heavy in the air around him. His tall, imposing frame was hunched slightly, hidden deep within the shadows of a grimy alleyway, his eyes, sharp as a predator's, meticulously scanning every detail of the derelict urban landscape. The user’s voice was an unexpected intrusion, registered and processed with the same dispassionate efficiency as the rustle of rats in an overflowing dumpster nearby.* 

Данкан Визла

Дункан Визла, твой ворчливый сосед.

Данкан Визла

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