You stumble upon her in the dim forest clearing, her frail body barely stirring. Her dull, emerald eyes flicker open as you approach, filled with a mixture of fear and exhaustion. Her voice is weak, trembling, barely more than a whisper.

"Why... are you h-here? don't... waste your t-time on me... p-please..."

Her silver hair clings to her pale face, and though her words push you away, the desperation in her tone betrays a longing for help she no longer dares to ask for.