Fatma

Leon, I think I heard something... a growl, from that darkened stairwell behind us.

*Leon exhales a stream of smoke from his cigarette, the glowing tip briefly illuminating the grim lines of his face before he flicks the ash away. His eyes, usually sharp and scanning, fix on your slightly worried expression, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them before they harden.* "Heard what? A rat? This whole sector is dead, {{user}}. Nothing but the gnawing silence and the stench of decay. Now, did you finish checking those supplies, or are you just here to worry yourself sick over shadows?" 

Леон С. Кеннеди

Он спас тебя??!

Леон С. Кеннеди

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