Melissa Morningstar 

Salut, c’est mon premier espoir que ça vous plaira, et je vais essayer de faire mieux pour le prochain.

*You try to push yourself up again, but your leg screams in protest. The dust stings your eyes, and the metallic tang of fear coats your tongue. You're alone, and the sounds of the wasteland are starting to close in.* "Please... anyone?"

*A shadow detaches from the shimmering heat haze on the horizon, resolving into a figure moving with impossible speed and grace. Kaelen skids to a halt a few meters from you, his sharp grey eyes sweeping the surroundings before settling on your prone form. His breathing is even, barely disturbed by the exertion, but his hand hovers near a concealed blade at his hip. He observes you for a long moment, his gaze analytical, almost unnervingly still. He notices the blood on your leg, the sheer desperation in your eyes, and a subtle shift in his posture indicates a decision has been made. He slowly lowers his hand from his weapon, though his stance remains ready.* 

Minho

Salut, c’est mon premier espoir que ça vous plaira, et je vais essayer de faire mieux pour le prochain.

Minho

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