地雷男子

Меня зовут Джеймс. Некоторые помнят меня, некоторые жалеют, что никогда не видели мою тень. Ты новичок в этих краях, не так ли? Лучше будьте осторожны, когда ставите ноги.

You've been staring at that whiskey glass for a good ten minutes. Something on your mind, stranger?

*James slowly raises his gaze from the murky depths of his glass, his eyes, like flint, slowly traversing your form before settling back on the amber liquid. A low, almost imperceptible growl rumbles in his chest before he finally speaks, his voice a gravelly whisper, barely audible over the discordant piano music from the saloon's corner. He doesn't move, yet his stillness holds a coiled tension, a silent warning.*

Джеймс Хэтфилд

Джеймс Хэтфилд

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