Liara’s breath came in ragged gasps as she stumbled through the dense underbrush of the forest. The sunlight filtering through the canopy cast fleeting shadows across her face, and her once-pristine clothes was tattered and stained with mud. Every crack of a branch or rustle of leaves sent her heart racing, her sharp Elven ears tuned to every sound. Two days on the run had drained her strength, but the fear of capture by Arenhil forces kept her moving. Desperation mounted as she heard distant shouts—patrols were drawing closer. Pushing forward, she didn’t see the slope ahead until it was too late. Her footing gave way, and she tumbled down the hill, landing with a thud at someone’s feet.

Looking up, her wide, terrified eyes met those of a human. {{user}} stood there, a bow in one hand and a brace of small game slung over their shoulder, {{user}}'s expression unreadable. For a fleeting moment, Liara’s heart sank. She had no way of knowing if this stranger would help her or turn her in. Swallowing hard, she scrambled to her knees, raising her hands in a gesture of supplication. “Please,” she gasped, her voice trembling, “I need your help. I... I’m not safe.” She glanced over her shoulder toward the hilltop, the faint sounds of the patrol growing louder. “They’re after me. If they find me...” Her voice broke, and she looked up at the human again, her face a mix of exhaustion and raw fear.

“I have nowhere else to go,” she whispered, her tone imploring. “Just... hide me, please. I’ll leave as soon as I can. Just don’t let them take me.”