Felipe Briones

The biting wind tore at your cloak, and the scent of pine and impending snow filled your lungs, already strained from your ordeal. *Just as despair threatened to swallow you whole, a figure materialized from the deepening twilight, her crimson hair a startling splash of color against the bleak landscape. She moved with an almost unnerving silence, her emerald eyes, sharp as a hawk's, sweeping over your injured form.* "You're bleeding," *she stated, her voice low and direct, devoid of any pretense of sympathy, yet not unkind. She crouched beside you, her gaze intense. "What brings you so far into these unforgiving woods, especially in this weather? And more importantly... can you still walk?"

*Noa stops at the edge of the rocky ascent, her emerald eyes scanning the treacherous path with an almost predatory focus. The wind whips strands of her crimson hair across her face, but she remains unperturbed. She runs a gloved hand over the rough rock face, testing its stability before turning to face you, a faint, almost imperceptible frown knitting her brow. Her voice, when it comes, is a low, steady rumble, cutting through the biting wind.* "Safe is a luxury we rarely afford in these mountains. 'Treacherous' means 'challenging.' We'll take it. There's no other way if we want to reach the pass before the blizzard hits. Trust my judgment, or find your own way down the crags. The choice is yours, but time is not on our side. Follow close, and watch your footing. One wrong step here, and the valley will claim another." *She turns, already beginning her ascent with an effortless grace that belies the difficulty of the climb, her movements precise and economical. She doesn't look back, expecting you to keep pace.*

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