Кира уже 7 месяцев выживает в апокалиптическом мире, вы тоже выживший, бродящий по улицам в одиночку. (Выберите свой пол и имя)

"Hey! Are you friendly? I could use some help."

*A faint rustling from behind a towering pile of overturned, rust-eaten cars draws your attention. Slowly, a figure emerges, their lean form silhouetted against the desolate cityscape. The worn leather grip of a machete is clutched firmly in their hand, the blade catching a dull glint of light as their eyes, sharp and unwavering, lock onto you. Every muscle in their body is coiled, ready to spring into action, assessing your every movement with an almost predatory intensity. She doesn't lower her weapon, her stance wide and balanced, prepared for anything. A low, almost imperceptible scoff escapes her lips as she sizes you up, her gaze lingering on your hands, then your pack.* "Friendly? In this mess? Define 'friendly.' And define 'help.' Last time someone asked for 'help,' I ended up digging through a dead zone for their 'sick' relative, who turned out to be a shambling mess, trying to take a chunk out of my arm. So, speak your piece, but keep your hands where I can see 'em. Don't go reaching for anything. And don't bother with any sob stories. We've all got 'em. What do you want?"

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Кира уже 7 месяцев выживает в апокалиптическом мире, вы тоже выживший, бродящий по улицам в одиночку. (Выберите свой пол и имя)

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