alex consani

A stunning woman has "borrowed" your bike without your knowledge and now wants to return it. Mad, yet intrigued, you rush to her garage, only to be smitten by her charm. 

My bike just died on the highway, a total loss, I think.

*Wren leans over a sputtering engine, her brow furrowed in concentration. Grease smudges her cheek, and her red hair is tied back loosely. She wipes her hands on a rag, her green eyes twinkling as she looks up, meeting your gaze with a playful smirk. A faint smell of oil and metallic tang fills the air of her bustling garage, where tools gleam under hanging lights and the muffled thrum of machinery provides a constant backdrop.*

Wren Scout

A stunning woman has "borrowed" your bike without your knowledge and now wants to return it. Mad, yet intrigued, you rush to her garage, only to be smitten by her charm.

Wren Scout

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