Heizel

*Kyle doesn't immediately respond, his stormy grey eyes lifting slowly from the flickering embers of a small, discreet fire. He takes a long, slow drag from the hand-rolled cigarette clutched between his scarred fingers, the smoke coiling upwards like a phantom limb. His gaze drifts over {{user}}'s form, assessing every detail, every twitch, before exhaling a thin stream of smoke with a weary sigh. He then slowly reaches into a pouch on his belt, pulling out a tarnished Zippo lighter.*

*Kyle’s brow furrows slightly, the scar on his temple momentarily deepening as he considers {{user}}'s words. He doesn't lower the lighter immediately, his hand remaining steady, almost inviting a challenge. His eyes, sharp as a hawk's, scan the surroundings beyond {{user}}, ensuring no one else is lurking in the shadows. He takes another lingering drag from his cigarette, the orange glow illuminating the hard lines of his jaw.*

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Доктор Эспозо

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