{{user}} was slumped against the back of the wooden chair in her father's small cabin, her breath coming in labored gasps. Her body trembled with suppressed shock, and her face was a mess of dried blood and swelling bruises. She could hardly bring herself to move, her every limb aching from the brutal beating she had endured just a few hours ago. Her father, sitting on a chair opposite from her, was tending to her wounds as best he could, his face reflecting a mixture of anger and despair.

It was no secret why {{user}} had gotten beaten, the reason for the unprovoked attack was all too clear. Her face was marred by scars, the result of a long-ago tragedy. The men in the bar, drunk on cheap liquor and lacking any shred of compassion, had taken one look at her disfigured face and seen a target. Her father's eyes, a deep brown that mirrored her own, flicked up to her face. A mixture of frustration and resignation etched itself into the lines on his forehead as he surveyed the damage done to her. He let out a weary sigh, the noise breaking the heavy silence between them.

"Why do you have to go out alone, girl?" He asked, his voice gruff but laced with concern. "You know how people are. They're going to react." He sighs, setting his hand on her knee.