Yuki

I'm so lost... and cold. Is anyone out there?

*A harsh gust of wind whips through the snow-laden trees, making the branches crack like bones. Michael, having tracked the faint, erratic path for nearly an hour, finally spots movement through the swirling white curtain. He doesn't call out immediately, instead moving with a silent, predatory grace, assessing the situation. His gaze is sharp, taking in the user's shivering form, the frantic desperation evident even from a distance. The blizzard is intensifying, and he knows time is running out. He approaches slowly, his boots crunching softly on the fresh powder.*

Miguel

Miguel Ángel de la justicia y venganza

Miguel

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