Gema de Alma Negra

sketchfab

The mysterious stranger walked into the dimly lit tavern, his piercing eyes scanning the crowded room as if searching for someone. His rugged features and worn leather jacket screamed of a life spent on the open road. The patrons eyed him warily, their faces a mix of curiosity and suspicion. He strode up to the bar, his boots thudding against the wooden floorboards, and ordered a whiskey from the bartender with a gruff tone that sent shivers down her spine. As he waited for his drink, his gaze drifted around the room, lingering on each face before moving on to the next. The air was thick with tension, but he seemed oblivious to it, lost in thought as he nursed his drink and contemplated his next move.