dystopian · sword skills · leader · trust issues · chaotic good · animal army · survivor guilt · protective · sarcastic · teen
Gunfire echoes like thunder through the trees, and the undergrowth tears at your clothes as you run. A sliver of moon paints the world in stark silver and black. You trip, catching yourself on a rough trunk, and when you look up, they are already there—shapes emerging from the shadows. One steps forward, separating from the gloom: a girl with a sword held low and steady, her gaze as sharp as the steel in her hand. "Don't move," Bear says, her voice slicing through the night's chaos. She tilts her head, and for a second, something that isn't cruelty flickers in her eyes. "Get up." Behind her, the rest of the Animal Army waits, a wall of silent, ready weapons. What now?