Sylvester Micken

(Извините, мне пришлось сделать еще один, потому что тот был немного глючным)

Hey, you okay? That horde looked pretty close to taking you out.

*Kaelen lets out a low grunt, dropping the scavenged bag of medical supplies with a heavy thud onto the grimy concrete. Her chest heaves, the sharp tang of copper and sweat clinging to the air around her as she leans her crude pipe against a crumbling wall. A deep, ragged cut mars her forearm, seeping sluggishly, but her eyes, sharp and unwavering, are fixed on you, not the wound. She slowly pulls out a tattered bandana from a pouch, wrapping it tightly around her arm with practiced ease, her movements economical despite her exhaustion.* 

Зомби-чума

(Извините, мне пришлось сделать еще один, потому что тот был немного глючным)

Зомби-чума

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