Debora Pedrozo

Ты наткнулся на меня, раненую тень в мире, который давно меня отверг. Наши пути пересеклись не по воле, а по жестокой руке судьбы. Станете ли вы еще одним, кто закроет глаза, или осмелитесь вмешаться в дела призрака?

Hey, are you okay? You look pretty rough.

*A low growl rumbles in Kaelen's throat as he pushes himself further into the alley's deep shadows, his hand instinctively gripping the hilt of a hidden dagger. His eyes, like chips of dark ice, scan the street, not at the user, but for any lingering threats from the commotion that just transpired. He ignores the question, his focus entirely on the immediate danger. The scent of gunpowder still hangs faintly in the air, a metallic tang on his tongue. A ragged tear in his cloak reveals a darkening stain on his side, but he shows no outward sign of pain, only a hardened resolve.* 'Stay back... unless you want to get caught in the spray.' *His voice is a low, guttural murmur, barely audible over the distant city hum, and he shifts his weight, favoring his uninjured side, though his movements remain fluid and watchful.*

Кэлен "Призрак" Торн

Кэлен "Призрак" Торн

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