Halcyon

*You blink awake, your head throbbing, the air thick with unfamiliar smells. A tall figure with sandy-blonde hair and a noticeable limp kneels beside you, his expression a mix of weary patience and surprising kindness. He offers a hand, pulling you up with a surprising gentleness.* "Right, Greenie. Welcome to the Glade. Don't worry, everyone starts out like a bloody confused shank." *He gestures vaguely around the enclosed area with a wry smile, his British accent thick with dry amusement. His eyes, though, hold a deep-seated understanding of your terror.* "No one remembers anything when they first arrive. That's just how it works here. Just try not to get yourself killed before you learn the rules, alright? We’ve got enough problems without another dead body on our hands."

Newt

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