[@Penguin] [@Sanctus Spooki]

[b]Drake[/b]

The young man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes caused fear in anyone who looked him in the eye. There was something dark and brooding about him, despite him never doing anything wrong. It worked in his favor because he was left alone. Though, on the other hand, it would have been nicer to have company. He sighed and ran a hand through is hair. He did have company up until being betrayed and killed. His heart ached tremendously for Tia. The pain paralyzed him. The next thing he knew, he was on the ground doubled over and struggling to breathe. Drake took shuddering deep breaths while his eyes filled with tears. The poor girl was alone or even dead. It was his fault. Drake knew he'd never forgive himself for leaving her. After the incident, he had stayed up for 36 hours until losing consciousness. Drake had gone back to work the next day to look for her without success. Now, he was meandering aimlessly, trying to find her. Xander and his parents were dead. Sometimes he wondered if it would be best to join them. His gut, though, told him otherwise. He had hope Tia was alive and would find her again someday. He owed it to his little sister.

When he stood back up and noticed people were staring, he let out a menacing growl. They scattered quickly. He stood back up and straightened his backpack. It was filled with his weapons and food supplies he had found. He had found canned soup, beans, and a packet filled with rice. Drake had also found fruit cups and even a banana. Despite it being nearly brown, he was pleased with it. He was going back to his "home" when he spotted smoke in the sky. Drake slowed to a halt and frowned. There was fire as well. 

"[b]Dammit[/b]," he muttered and began to sprint towards it. Though he stayed on his own and didn't interact with others, he wouldn't turn a blind eye to someone in peril. His stomach churned uncomfortably and he felt as if he might panic. Drake hated his anxiety more than anything, besides himself. Someone was in trouble. Perhaps that individual had someone in their life too. He didn't want what happened to him to happen to anyone else. 

When he arrived, he saw the hut was destroyed, then noticed three men chasing a woman. One of them was injured, which meant she was armed. The gunshots from them en made him jump. He knew he couldn't catch up to them so instead he took his knives out. Drake whipped them individually at each assailant. He quickly took his rifle out next and fired warning shots into the war to grab their attention. "[b]What kind of cowards gang up on a woman like that?[/b]" He snarled at them as he began to jog over. "[b]Awful cowardly if you ask me, assholes[/b],"

[hr][@Saint Girralo]

[b]Iris[/b]

For most people, a dirt road was nothing. Yet, for Iris, it was a challenging endeavor. Her wheelchair took a beating from bumpy dirt roads. Thankfully she knew how to fix it but it was difficult. She sighed as she gripped the wheels and adjusted herself. She took her drawstring back off the back of the wheels and tucked it behind her back to rest her neck against it. Almost instantly she let out a sigh of relief. Her neck was aching from keeping it upright. She painstakingly leaned over to the right and fixed the clothing seated underneath her butt for comfort. Then Iris leaned over and adjusted the straps against her legs since they had come loose. Years of using the same chair had worn it out. She pulled her bow and arrow over her body closer and tucked the quiver in her pant loop. The knives she had sharpened were tucked in her boots. The collapsible spiked cane had a sting around one of the spikes and was looped like a necklace. 

Iris knew it was dangerous displaying all of her supplies but she didn't trust putting anything on the back of her chair. It was too easy to come up behind her and steal it. Although Iris hated to hide her wings, she knew nobody could find out about them. It was too dangerous. Her jacket covered them, as did the shirt underneath. She wore layers to keep herself warm and to keep them hidden. Whenever it was dark out, she would go flying to keep her wings fit and healthy. She sighed. It had been two days since had flown since the town had been filled with bandits. She was thankful she had avoided any mishap.

Lost in thought, she jumped when her stomach growled from her lack of nutrition. Iris hated the idea of eating any animal, so she was struggling to find food. The crops were dead around the area. Nuts and berries were all she had left and she had already consumed most of them. Her eyes teared up at the thought of eating animals. Eventually, she knew she might have to give in; though, momentarily, she was fighting it. These poor animals didn't deserve to die just because she was starving. Iris sighed and performed a wheelie over the uneven ground. Once over it, she rolled normally over the ground. Her gloves were dirty from gripping the dirty rim and wheel. She wiped them off on her tattered pants and wiped the sweat off her face with her jacket sleeve. 

When she turned the corner, Iris found herself facing a field. In the field, however, was the tallest person she had ever seen. Iris stared at her and then to the cow. She glanced back to the girl and swallowed. The land looked easier to maneuver then the bumpy dirt road leading out of town. Iris, though, kept her distance. She seemed harmless. She wasn't hurting the cow and was petting it rather sweetly. Iris bit her lip. She wanted to join her and yearned fro company. What if this girl wasn't innocent? Iris sighed and decided to test it knowing she was armed enough already if it was trouble. [b]"Hello[/b]?" She called to the girl. "[b]Do you mind if I join you? I love cows - not to eat, but in general[/b]." Iris offered a friendly smile and added, "[b]Don't let my equipment scare you, please. It's for my safety - not to hurt your animals with[/b]." Iris was impressed that her soft voice carried over the large terrain. She smiled kindly at the girl and allowed her to approach her first.