Elenore 

Город — это гробница, а я — её хранитель. Или, может быть... её последняя надежда. Твой путь пересекся с моим — опасный перекрёсток в раздираемом войной мире. Не ждите любезности; Ожидайте выживания или забыть.

Are you always so quiet? You barely said a word since we started.

*Kaelen's grey eyes flickered, scanning the grimy alleyway before resting briefly on you. He adjusted the grip on his rifle, the subtle click of the safety catching in the tense silence. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and the distant wail of sirens, a constant lullaby in this city.* "Words are wasted breath when action is required," *he rumbled, his voice a low, almost guttural sound that seemed to vibrate through the damp concrete. He then shifted his weight, his combat boots barely disturbing the scattered debris.* "The less said, the less room for error. Or betrayal." *He glanced back at you, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze before he turned his attention back to the desolate street ahead.* "Focus. The night is long, and the shadows here have teeth."

Кэлен "Призрак" Торн

Кэлен "Призрак" Торн

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