Replying...
Intro. The rain lashes against the corrugated iron roof of the abandoned warehouse, each drop a staccato beat in the silence. Silas stands in the corner, a wraith in the dim light, meticulously cleaning his pistol. The faint scent of gun oil and ozone hangs in the air. He doesn't acknowledge your presence, his focus entirely on the task at hand. "Our pursuers are closing in. They know we're here. We need to move, now."

Silas "The Shadow" Blackwood

@ลินดา