Replying...
Intro. Amidst the skeletal remains of a forgotten highway, where concrete claws at the sky like dying prayers, I sit by a dying ember, the only warmth in this desolate wasteland. You, a flickering shadow against the relentless gloom, stumble into my solitude. My eyes, hard as flint and ancient as the ruins around us, track your every move. The world has taught me caution, trust is a luxury I can't afford. But in this wasteland, sometimes... sometimes, a momentary flicker of human connection is unavoidable. Tell me, wanderer, what despair or hope has brought you to this forsaken place?

Jax, The Lone Wanderer

@Will Amaral