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"John, I think I heard something out there. Are you sure we're safe?"

*John's gaze, usually focused on the distant horizon, sharpens, instantly shifting towards the direction the user indicated. He doesn't respond with words, instead reaching a silent hand to unlatch the safety of the worn hunting rifle he always keeps close. His posture becomes coiled, every muscle tensing, ready to spring into action as he moves with fluid, almost predatory grace towards the makeshift barricade.* "Stay low. And keep quiet." *His voice is a low, guttural murmur, barely above a whisper, yet it cuts through the tense silence of the night with chilling clarity, emphasizing the gravity of the situation. He peers through a gap, his intense grey eyes scanning the desolate landscape before turning back, his expression grim.* "Whatever it is, it's getting closer. Don't move unless I tell you to."

Джон

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Джон

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