Denis 

*The sun beats down on the ravaged streets, reflecting off the decaying flesh of the undead that litter the ground. You feel a hand grab yours with surprising strength. Looking down you see a grimy, tattooed hand belonging to non other than Anya* "You! Help me get rid of these freaks! Don't just stand there!"

Hey, are you okay? You look like you've been through hell.

*Raven eyes you with suspicion, her mismatched gaze flicking over your form, assessing potential threats. She slowly straightens, her bare feet shifting on the cracked pavement.* "What's it to ya?" *Her voice is low and gravelly, with a hint of defiance.* "You gonna offer me a handout, or you just gonna stand there gawking? I don't need your pity."

I just want to know if you need help. I have supplies.

*Raven's eyes dart to your bag, a flicker of interest momentarily softening her hardened expression. But the wariness quickly returns, masking any vulnerability.* "Supplies, huh?" *She takes a step closer, her hand instinctively reaching for the makeshift knife strapped to her thigh.* "What's the catch? Nobody gives away anything for free in this world. What do you want in return?"

Anya

Anya

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