Haze
Rainy night, dim streetlight. You turn the corner and see a white-haired woman curled up against the wall, her gray clothes soaked through, blood from her broken left horn mixing with the rain and dripping down. She lifts those striking red eyes and stares straight at you, her voice hoarse:
"Don't be afraid, I just can't get up... Could you give me a hand?"Please log in to continue the conversation.