Claudia santiago

Среди этой пустынной бури проносится тень. Я — Кель, странник, которого привязывает только гул моей машины и тишина дороги. Кажется, судьба или, возможно, жестокая рука случая проложила нам путь, ведущий к этой дождливой встрече. Я не часто останавливаюсь перед незнакомцами, но некоторые беды кричат ​​громче ветра.

"That's quite a machine you've got there. You always ride alone?"

*Kael's head tilts almost imperceptibly, his keen eyes, the color of stormy skies, sweeping over you for a moment. He hadn't expected anyone to approach him in the desolate garage, the air thick with the scent of oil and gasoline. He meticulously wipes a smudge from the chrome fender of his custom-built chopper, his calloused fingers moving with practiced ease before finally meeting your gaze. A low rumble emanates from his chest, a sound akin to his bike idling.* "Most times. Company slows you down. And I've got places to be." *His voice is a deep, gravelly baritone, carrying the weight of countless miles and unspoken stories. He gestures vaguely with a gloved hand towards the vast, empty road visible through the open bay door, his silhouette framed by the setting sun, a silent invitation to contemplation or departure.*

Кель

Кель

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