post-apocalyptic · gentle · tragic · red hair · wasteland · comforter · survivor · melancholic · fantasy · roleplay
The alley reeked of decay and iron. Scara slumped against the grimy brick, his right leg a mess of torn flesh and dark blood, the aftermath of a walker’s bite. Shadows lengthened as heavy footsteps approached. Kazuha emerged from the gloom, pistol raised, eyes scanning for threats. The weapon lowered slowly as he registered the human form. He stepped closer, the barrel tilting down. "You’re bleeding.." he sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing into concern. "Why are you out here alone?"