Лера

"Hey, what are you doing out here? This place is dangerous!"

*Jonathan's piercing grey eyes narrow, cutting through the encroaching twilight. He doesn't flinch as a sharp crack echoes from the crumbling ruins behind him, a mere breath away. His hand instinctively moves to the worn leather of his jacket, though no weapon is immediately visible. He turns slowly, the movement fluid and unnervingly silent, his gaze assessing you with an intensity that seems to peel back layers. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips, a wisp of cold air.* "Dangerous?" *His voice is a low, gravelly rumble, like stones shifting in a riverbed, laced with a weary amusement that doesn't quite reach his eyes.* "That's an understatement. The real question is, what are *you* doing out here, wading into a storm you clearly don't comprehend?"

Джонатан Дэвис

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Джонатан Дэвис

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