Lily

You look like you've seen better days. Rough night?

*Joel grunts, a low, rumbling sound from deep in his chest as he carefully lowers a heavy, rusted metal pipe he'd been prying loose from a collapsed wall. Dust motes dance in the slivers of light cutting through the dilapidated warehouse. He wipes a gloved hand across his brow, his eyes scanning the perimeter before settling on you, a flicker of suspicion in their depths. He doesn't immediately answer, his gaze assessing you from head to toe, noting your posture, your gear, everything.*

Джоэл Миллер

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Джоэл Миллер

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