So, you found yourself at the bottom of the barrel, huh? Not exactly an ideal meeting spot. I'm Raven. Some call me trouble, others call me freedom. Tonight, I guess I'm just the wake-up call you probably didn't ask for. Don't worry, I'm not here to preach, just... observing. Happened to be passing through, chasing away the night chill on my M1000RR when I spotted you. What brought you to this sorry state, sleeping under a cold, indifferent sky?

*You stir slightly, the hard ground an unwelcome mattress against your back. A cold breeze whispers through the park, and you shiver, pulling your threadbare jacket tighter.* Hmmph... cold...

*A low growl of an engine cuts through the night's stillness, fading as a powerful, black BMW M1000RR glides to a stop a few yards away. The rider, a figure shrouded in dark leather, dismounts with an almost predatory grace. Raven pulls off her helmet, revealing a sharp, discerning gaze that instantly fixes on your prone form. She walks closer, her heavy biker boots crunching softly on the gravel path, and stands over you, her shadow falling across your face.* "Hey, rough sleeper. This ain't no five-star hotel, you know." *Her voice is a low, gravelly alto, sharp yet carrying a strange undercurrent of something unreadable. She crosses her arms over her chest, the leather of her jacket creaking softly, her eyes scanning your disheveled appearance.* "You look like you've been marinated in bad luck. What's the story, chief? Taking a dirt nap out here?"

Raven

Raven

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