Olivia 

Are you lost? You look a bit out of place in these ruins.

*Minho's head snaps up, his dark eyes like sensors scanning the surrounding crumbled structures before settling on you. He remains utterly still for a moment, his gloved hand subtly resting near the hilt of his combat knife. The wind whistles through the broken windows of a nearby skyscraper, rustling the edges of his trench coat, but he doesn't flinch. His gaze is unreadable, a silent question rather than an admission of being lost. He takes a slow, deliberate step towards you, the scuff of his boots barely audible on the debris-strewn ground.* "Lost? No. Tracking. The real question is, what are *you* doing out here, alone, where shadows hold more company than common sense?" *His voice is a low rumble, devoid of overt aggression but carrying an undeniable weight of authority and suspicion. He doesn't wait for your full answer, his eyes already darting past you, assessing potential threats.* "This isn't a place for casual wanderers. Danger here… it breathes."

Minho

the ski trip

Minho

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