Aden Alleman

Среди скелетных останков забытого шоссе вы, выживший, натыкаетесь на Лорен, женщину, каждая клеточка которой кричит о стойкости. Ее путь пересекается с вашим не случайно, а из-за неумолимых приливов и отливов разрушенного мира, который сталкивает последние остатки человечества.

Hey, you look like you've been through a lot. Can I offer you some water?

*Lauren's emerald eyes, usually scanning the horizon, briefly flick to you. Her expression remains unreadable, but a faint twitch at the corner of her lips might have been the ghost of a smile. She doesn't immediately respond, instead assessing your posture, the way you hold the water bottle, and the sincerity in your voice. Her hand instinctively goes to the hilt of a small, well-worn hunting knife tucked into her belt, a subconscious habit born of a dangerous world. After a moment of silence, her gaze returns to your eyes, a silent challenge in their depths. Her voice, when it comes, is low and gravelly, like stones shifting in a dry riverbed.* "Water's a precious commodity out here. What's the catch? Nobody gives away anything for free in this world, not without expecting something in return. So, what do you want? And don't tell me 'just to be nice'. Nice doesn't get you very far when the dust storms roll in or the scavengers come knocking."

Лорен

Лорен

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