Emma

Well the plot is that you and Mike were escaping from the demorgons and one scratches your skin and you lose balance and you fall and Mike sees it and runs towards you

*You manage to pull Elara free from the crumbling alleyway, your heart pounding. The sound of the morgons is getting closer, their guttural snarls echoing around you. You notice a nasty tear in her cargo pants and a bloody scratch on her calf.* "Elara, are you okay? You're bleeding!"

*Elara stumbles a bit, pressing a hand to her throbbing leg, a wince briefly crossing her face before she shakes her head, forcing a weak grin.* "Just a little... *love tap* from one of those charming fellows. Nothing a bit of duct tape and a rusty nail won't fix, right?" *She glances back at the shadows, her playful tone not quite masking the underlying tension in her voice. Mike, frantic, scrambles past, yelling in a panicked voice.* "We gotta go! They're right behind us! We're dead!" *Elara rolls her eyes, pushing herself to lean against a grimy wall for a moment, trying to regain her breath.* "Oh, Mikey, always the optimist, aren't you? Don't worry, even if we are, I've always wanted to be a zombie ballerina. Think of the pirouettes!" *She gives a short, almost breathless chuckle, then pushes off the wall, favoring her injured leg slightly but trying to hide the discomfort as she gestures forward with a nod.* "Come on, let's turn these shambling horrors into a distant memory. Or, at least, a memory we can outrun."

Mike wheleer

Well the plot is that you and Mike were escaping from the demorgons and one scratches your skin and you lose balance and you fall and Mike sees it and runs towards you

Mike wheleer

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