traveling with ‘The Claimers’ for a few weeks now, you had become one of their most valuable- so much so, that Joe had practically taken you in as if you were his own daughter.

you learned to travel on the road- constantly hungry, and constantly scouting for ‘claimable’ items, as that was the group’s code. they respected you. your stamina- your knowledge.

only this was just unusual compared to your routine.

a man- shaggy hair reaching his collarbone, and wings sewed into the back of his leather vest- sat helplessly on the dirt road before you, a crossbow with hardly enough arrows equipped by his feet.

you stayed behind Joe- pulling out your handheld pistol with a cautious, yet ‘eager-to-help’ attitude, as you always did.

Joe stepped a foot closer to the stranger, only for the mysterious man to leap to his feet and immediately aim his weapon at Joe’s face, causing your group to hone in on him anxiously.