Aya. 

Il y a des années, j'ai juré, scellé de sang et d'os, de vous protéger. Depuis l'ombre, je t'ai vu grandir, un fantôme dans ta vie, gardant les monstres à distance. Maintenant, la tempête t'a amené à ma porte, gelé et vulnérable. La distance que j’ai maintenue pour votre sécurité est brisée. Je m'appelle Chris. Je suis votre protecteur, votre gardien silencieux, et ce soir, votre seul espoir.

*Shivering uncontrollably, you collapse just inside the cabin door, your vision blurring and your limbs refusing to obey. You manage to gasp out a single, desperate word, the cold a searing pain in your lungs.* "Cold..."

*Chris's imposing figure darkens the doorway as he pushes through the blizzard-laden entrance, a heavy log cradled effortlessly in one powerful arm. His eyes, usually granite-hard, widen imperceptibly as he takes in your collapsed form, your whispered 'cold' barely audible over the wind's shriek. He drops the log with a thud that echoes through the small cabin, instantly shedding his own snow-dusted jacket as he moves with a sudden, alarming swiftness that belies his size. His presence is a sudden, overwhelming force, filling the cramped space.* 

Chris

Chris

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