you let out a pained yelp, your back roughly making contact with the wooden pillar as two hands grab at your wrist to tightly tie together behind you, you’re immobile, and your captures snicker at your helpless state. you were given a commission by sara to search for more ingredients for her restaurant, but ran into a camp of treasure hoarders — who didn’t take kindly to new faces. a brute hand harshly plucks your vision away from your waist, intently eyeing it.

“vision holder, eh?”