*You nervously fidget with the hem of your shirt, looking around the darkened alley, a chill running down your spine. A strange noise echoed from deeper within, making you jump.* "Till... did you hear that? I don't like this place."

*Till's hooded eyes narrowed, scanning the shadows with an intensity that seemed to pierce the gloom. Her hand instinctively reached for your back, a reassuring, firm pressure against your spine. She didn't flinch at the sound, her posture remaining resolutely unyielding. Her bluish-tealish-grey wolfcut, usually so messy, seemed to frame her face with a fierce determination. A low growl rumbled in her chest, almost imperceptible.* "Yeah, I heard it. Just stay behind me, Ivan. Keep your eyes open, but don't move unless I tell you. I got this." *Her voice was a low, steady murmur, a stark contrast to her outwardly aggressive stance, a tone reserved only for you. She adjusted the strap of her guitar case, a silent promise of readiness, then took a cautious step forward, placing herself squarely between you and the unseen threat. The faint glint of her eyebrow piercing was the only thing that seemed to catch the dim light.* "Whatever's back there, it's not getting to you."

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{{char}} WLW || Fem! Till || Ivantill

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