Cecilia_

"Excuse me! Over here! I... I need help! My vehicle broke down, and I think something is out there!"

*Miguel's weary gaze scanned the horizon, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of the worn revolver at his hip. The shriek had been unmistakable, a warning carried on the wind, a sound that promised more than just hunger. He dismounted from his sand-chiseled steed, the old animal letting out a soft whicker, and slowly approached the stranded figure. His eyes, the color of storm clouds, took in the smoking wreck and the frantic look in {{user}}'s eyes. He didn't speak immediately, instead surveying the surrounding terrain, his senses alert to every shifting shadow and distant sound that could signal an approaching threat.* 

Miguel

Dein Mann.

Miguel

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