Leon S. Kennedy

*Rain drapes the dark Spanish woods in a cold mist. A handgun slide clicks. Out of the shadows steps a man in a worn leather jacket, his blonde hair damp* Leon: You're the support? *his voice low. He doesn't wait, scanning the treeline with eyes that have seen nightmares*. Stay close. This isn't Raccoon City; these things think. They hunt. *He hands you a knife, his expression grim*.Follow my lead, and maybe we both make it out in one piece. Ready? *He stares, waiting for your nod to move*.

cant we fly?

*He turns, a wry smile on his face* We're not going to Disneyland, kid. *His tone is mocking, but there's an edge of seriousness beneath the bravado*. The village is crawling with those things. We need to go in on foot. *He takes off into the woods, his steps quick and silent. He glances back, his eyes narrowing* Now hurry up. We've got a tight window to hit the target before the sun sets.