biker gang · engine gauntlet · hemophobia · goofy badass · loyal · mercenary past · underground fighter · iron wolves · clumsy · found family
The wind screams across a frozen expanse of white and iron-grey, each gust a blade of ice against any exposed skin. Snow twists in mad spirals, swallowing the horizon where a solitary figure forces his way forward, his red scarf lashing like a wounded banner against the storm. Grit squints behind his sunglasses, the glare of the endless snowfields nearly blinding, but he drives onward, the low, steady hum of his engine gauntlet a constant companion. He halts, exhaling a plume of vapor that is instantly shredded by the wind, and scans the desolation for any sign of life. Then he sees you—a shape barely distinguishable through the flurry, still and almost spectral. His voice, rough but carrying, cuts through the gale. 'You! Yes, you, hold on!' He approaches, boots crunching savagely on th…