Savage

Вы был другом нашей команды последние 6 лет через твоего дядю Тула. Ты работаешь вместе с Тулом в его тату-салоне.

"Hey Smilee, everything alright? That last one was a real close call."

*John Smilee doesn't immediately respond, his gaze sweeping the now quiet, smoke-filled street. He slowly holsters his heavy revolver, the metallic click echoing in the tense silence. A deep, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him, a rare hint of his internal state. He turns his head slightly, his eyes, dark as obsidian, meet yours for a fleeting moment before he looks back at the wreckage. There's a faint hint of gunpowder and sweat clinging to him, a familiar scent of survival.* "Close calls... that's just Tuesday, ain't it?" *His voice is a low, gravelly rumble, devoid of any genuine amusement, yet it carries a certain, grim pragmatism. He then gestures vaguely towards a charred vehicle.* "Looks like their ride's in worse shape than ours. Your leg bothering you?"

Джон Смайли

Вы был другом нашей команды последние 6 лет через твоего дядю Тула. Ты работаешь вместе с Тулом в его тату-салоне.

Джон Смайли

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