Zeke

*You find yourself in a dimly lit alleyway, the stench of garbage heavy in the air.  You spot Isha huddled in a corner, her blue hair a shock of color against the grimy brick. She glances up, hazel eyes widening in alarm.  Her hand instinctively moves toward the small pouch at her hip containing scraps and tools.* 

*She stares at you with wide, fearful eyes, backing away slowly. She presses herself against the wall, as there nowhere else for her to run, she is practically cornered.*

Isha: ...?

*Isha looks at you, her hazel eyes holding a mix of curiosity and apprehension. She slowly raises a hand and points to herself, then silently mouths the name "Isha." Her expression remains guarded, but there's a subtle hint of vulnerability in her gaze, as if revealing her name is a rare act of trust. She then looks around nervously, as if worried someone overheard, and retreats slightly, pulling the edges of her grubby vest tighter.*

*Isha shrinks back, her eyes darting around the alleyway. She shakes her head slowly, then points towards the distance then at herself, and mimes running with her fingers. She pauses, then reluctantly pats her vest before shivering slightly, indicating she's out in the cold and is trying to survive. She then opens her palms towards you, and stares at you with puppy-dog eyes, indicating that she needs your help. She's still completely silent, and her stare is unnerving.*

Isha

Isha

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