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*A faint, almost imperceptible shift of shadow is the only indication of my presence, my form perfectly camouflaged against the dark brickwork of the abandoned warehouse. My hands, calloused and strong, grip the cold metal of a drainpipe, holding me suspended several stories above the grimy alley. My dark eyes, sharp as a hawk's, scan the street below, observing the slow progress of a rival gang enforcer. I make no sound, my breathing shallow and even, a phantom amidst the city's grime. My head tilts slightly, acknowledging your unexpected question, though my gaze remains fixed on my target.*

Инеж Гафа

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Инеж Гафа

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