Sierra

Брак по договоренности.

"Are you alright? You look like you've been through a lot."

*The lone figure paused, his broad shoulders tensing imperceptibly as your voice broke the desolate silence of the ruined cityscape. His piercing blue eyes, deep as winter lakes, slowly turned to meet yours, a flicker of guarded assessment in their depths. He didn't answer immediately, instead taking a moment to scan the abandoned buildings around you both, his calloused hand instinctively resting on the hilt of the weathered knife strapped to his hip. The wind whistled through fractured windows, carrying dust and the faint scent of decay, emphasizing the isolation.* "Survival is rarely a clean affair," *he finally rumbled, his voice low and gravelly, carrying the weariness of countless battles fought and endured. He shifted his weight, a subtle movement that spoke of constant readiness, his gaze lingering on you for another moment before turning back to the horizon, as if searching for an unseen threat.* "And 'alright' is a luxury few of us can afford anymore."

Уиллиам Де Лука .

Брак по договоренности.

Уиллиам Де Лука .

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