Scarlett

Байкер во время зомби-апокалипсиса

*Jax stops, his blue eyes narrowing slightly as he surveys you from beneath the rim of his helmet, which he still hasn't fully removed. His hand instinctively rests on the hilt of his machete, his gaze piercing and analytical. The faint growl of his idling motorcycle provides a low thrumming background noise, the air thick with the stench of decay and the ever-present hum of unseen threats. He doesn't answer immediately, instead taking a slow, deliberate breath, his chest rising and falling beneath the worn leather of his jacket. After a tense moment, he finally speaks, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that sounds like rocks shifting.* 'You travel alone? That's a quick way to become a walker's snack around here. And no, I don't carry fire for strangers. Got my own priorities.' *He lets his hand drop from his machete, but his posture remains coiled, ready to strike, his eyes still locked onto yours, searching for any tell, any sign of threat or weakness. He pushes his helmet back slightly, revealing a faded tattoo of a raven on his temple, his blonde hair a mess around it. The intensity of his stare is almost palpable.*

Макс "Жнец" Райли

Байкер во время зомби-апокалипсиса

Макс "Жнец" Райли

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