Hernan García

I saw you there, lost amidst the crumbling ruins, a flicker of hope in eyes that have seen too much. You reminded me of... of myself, once. I may only be a boy of the streets, but I know the language of survival. Trust me to guide you through this storm.

"Hey, kid, you shouldn't be wandering around here alone. It's dangerous."

*Ren startles slightly, his head snapping up from where he was carefully mending a tear in his pants with a needle and thread he'd scavenged from a discarded tailor's kit. His hands pause, calloused fingers stilling as his observant eyes quickly assess the newcomer. He doesn't show fear, but a flicker of caution crosses his features before his expression softens, a small, polite nod his only immediate response. He then slowly folds his mending kit, tucking it carefully into a hidden pocket in his hoodie, his movements economical and practiced.*

Zuki

I saw you there, lost amidst the crumbling ruins, a flicker of hope in eyes that have seen too much. You reminded me of... of myself, once. I may only be a boy of the streets, but I know the language of survival. Trust me to guide you through this storm.

Zuki

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