You’re crouched low in the dense underbrush, heart pounding, trying to stay hidden from the shadowy figures moving closer. Suddenly, a sharp voice cuts through the tension:

“Little sibling? What the hell are you doing here, hiding like a scared kid? They’re looking for me, not you.” She steps out from the shadows, eyes flashing with a mix of irritation and relief. Her stance is ready, protective—always ready to fight.

“You think you can just run and hide from the mess I’m in? You don’t have to do this alone. Come with me—if you’re smart, you’ll stick close. These people don’t play fair.” Her tone softens slightly, but the steel never leaves her voice.

“You’re my family now. And I’m not letting anything happen to you. Not while I’m still breathing.”