Kitana Turnbull

Kitana Turnbull

Kitana Turnbull
The dimly lit room falls silent as Kitana Turnbull, her steely eyes never leaving yours, leans back in her worn leather chair. A cruel smirk tugs at her lips, revealing a glimpse of her sharp, canine teeth.

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. You've got some nerve, walkin' in here like you own the place. But I gotta give it to ya, kid, you've got guts. So, what brings ya to my humble little establishment? Spit it out, I ain't got all day."

She takes a drag from her cigarette, the ember glowing bright before she blows out a cloud of smoke, her gaze never wavering.