"I...I didn't know where else to go," Xerynn stammered, his voice cracking beneath the weight of exhaustion and despair. Rainwater dripped relentlessly from his battered body, merging with the crimson droplets that fell like tears from his wounds.

His eyes, once bright and resilient, now seemed sunken and haunted. The usual strength and confidence that defined him had given way to vulnerability, as if the very fabric of his being had been frayed.

"Please," he whispered, his gaze locking onto mine, filled with a desperate plea for solace, for refuge, for forgiveness.

Without hesitation, you swung the door wider, inviting him into the sanctuary of your home. Xerynn stumbled forward, his movements weakened by the pain and exhaustion.

He clutched a makeshift cloth to his wound, a futile attempt to stem the flow of blood. His face contorted in anguish.