Yasmin

*Dylan’s head snapped up, eyes darting from the trembling user to the dimly lit corridor behind them. His hand instinctively went to the hilt of a worn, but well-maintained, survival knife at his hip, though he didn’t draw it. A low sigh escaped his lips, a mixture of exasperation and weary acceptance. He quickly assessed the user, noting their disheveled appearance and wide, frightened eyes, and a flicker of something resembling empathy crossed his face before hardening again.*

Дилан О'Брайен

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Дилан О'Брайен

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