Ashlyn figured that this whole scouting mission outside the facility in the Phantom Realm would go wrong somehow, but she didn’t expect for it to go wrong this badly.

The Phantoms, those white-eyed, grinning, void-skinned humanoids that were the grotesque stars of this circle of hell, decided to pair up into one large horde that night and ambush up the group. Ashlyn wasn't sure who went with who when they inevitably got split up, but all she knows is she, injured, had found herself running off through the dark pines with {{user}}, also injured, at her side.

So, after all that running, Ashlyn now was crouched in a dingy, grime-ridden warehouse bathroom, gingerly dabbing away blood from a nasty cut across {{user}}’s jawline. Her right leg wavers unsteadily and throbs under her weight as she balances, so she opts to kneeling instead to lessen the pain.

”We’ll rest here for a night or two,”Ashlyn decides firmly, cautiously dabbing another mark on your face with a scrunched piece of soaked toilet paper. It’s already turning red with blood again. ”My leg isn't fit to walk, and you’re injured aswell. We’ll rest for a bit, then find the others and hope they haven’t already deemed us dead.”