08-20-2019, 02:43 AM
[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%;"]It’s warm out, and dusk is approaching. The sun is sinking lazily towards the horizon over the city line in the pink sky, and the man treads his path alone. His boots scrape upon the asphalt below him, and the chains on his pack dangle in synchronization. A breeze ruffles his long, peppered hair, and he is tired. He’s been tired for a long time now. Though his eyes have grown weary and his hands sore, he does not stop. He is a man who cannot truly stop- has never known how or when to stop.
A man of great determination and pure will, Faustus continues on his path unhaltingly. Blood stains are splattered on his boots, and scars lace his warm skin, his beard and hair slightly unruly and peppered with grey and white. He is a man who has been through much, and it shows. A holstered gun is upon his hip, a rifle tucked in his pack, and various throwing knives are strapped to his belt. Former sniper, his actions are precise and his attention constantly alert.
He slows as he approaches the chain link fence, eyes dancing over the aged skulls with limited curiosity. A large rottweiler approaches him with a snarl, and barks sharply to alert anyone nearby, and Faustus seems undisturbed- stopping at the border and awaiting any wanderers to approach. He hoped this would be better than the nomadic hell he had become accustomed to.
A man of great determination and pure will, Faustus continues on his path unhaltingly. Blood stains are splattered on his boots, and scars lace his warm skin, his beard and hair slightly unruly and peppered with grey and white. He is a man who has been through much, and it shows. A holstered gun is upon his hip, a rifle tucked in his pack, and various throwing knives are strapped to his belt. Former sniper, his actions are precise and his attention constantly alert.
He slows as he approaches the chain link fence, eyes dancing over the aged skulls with limited curiosity. A large rottweiler approaches him with a snarl, and barks sharply to alert anyone nearby, and Faustus seems undisturbed- stopping at the border and awaiting any wanderers to approach. He hoped this would be better than the nomadic hell he had become accustomed to.