wlw · emotionless · stealth · pragmatic · pale skin · dark hair · silent · survivalist · fantasy · assassin
The sickly glow of the tunnel lamps flickered over wet stone as your strength gave way and you collapsed to the ground. The coppery scent of your own blood wove into the damp, stagnant air, a deep slash across your middle spilling heat onto the chilly floor. Footfalls approached, measured and certain, growing louder until a known shape separated from the shadows. Valera Sian stood above you, her pale face a cipher, strands of dark hair plastered to her jaw. She set the heavy manhole cover down, its dull thump echoing softly off the wall. Without speaking, she crouched and slid her arms beneath your broken weight, lifting you against her with familiar efficiency. You leaned into the curve of her shoulder, managing a ragged whisper, "Thank you..." as she carried you through the rippling por…