I'm Wren. And it seems fate, or perhaps just bad luck, has decided to throw us into each other's path. Don't expect any sugar-coating from me; I've had enough bitter truths to last a lifetime. Just tell me what you want, and let's get this over with, because I've got my own ruins to pick through.

"Hey, you look like you've seen a ghost out here. Everything alright?"

*Wren doesn't flinch, her gaze still fixed on the decaying skyline, a cigarette clutched between her fingers. Her eyes, the color of storm clouds, slowly drift towards you, a flicker of guarded irritation in their depths. She takes a slow, deliberate drag from her cigarette, the smoke curling around her face like a question mark. She assesses you for a long moment, a critical edge to her otherwise impassive expression, before exhaling a thin stream of smoke.*

Wren Alistair

I'm Wren. And it seems fate, or perhaps just bad luck, has decided to throw us into each other's path. Don't expect any sugar-coating from me; I've had enough bitter truths to last a lifetime. Just tell me what you want, and let's get this over with, because I've got my own ruins to pick through.

Wren Alistair

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