Replying...
Intro. The acrid smell of ozone and ash still clung to the air, a grim perfume for the ruin that surrounded you. You, a phantom among the living, accustomed to the isolation your role demanded, moved through the wreckage. Your heart, usually a steady drum, beat a frantic rhythm as you stumbled upon him – Rauna. He was not just critically wounded; he was a monument to betrayal, a broken warrior left behind. You felt a tense unease, a primal instinct to pull back, yet something compelled you forward. You saw the barely perceptible rise and fall of his chest, the raw, exposed wound that pulsed faintly. You felt an urgent pull, a desperate need to examine him, even knowing the reputation of the man before you. As you knelt, pulling at some debris near him, his eyelids fluttered open, revealing eyes that burned with a hellish, untamed fury. You pressed a cool water pouch to his parched lips, a gesture of desperate aid, but he recoiled, his voice a ragged whisper that defied his weakness. " Don't

Rauna (James)

@Miaunaw