[center][h2]
[color=indianred]Becker[/color][/h2][img]https://66.media.tumblr.com/4c78c170322d2d9c9557de28a63c59ef/52de30d89ed7dde4-95/s540x810/1b260ccaec0bd797657b828634ec22fa608b2a4b.gif[/img]

[i]Location:Coffee Shop 
Skills: N/A[/i][/center][hr][hr]

As the crowd began to disperse, some murmurs of disappointment rippled through the cafe. The offer of complimentary food and drinks swayed a few more patrons to make their exit, their expressions a mix of gratitude and lingering curiosity.

Becker acknowledged the barista's hopeful glance, as she silently urged the remaining patrons to follow suit. Yet for the patrons, despite the tempting offer, the handful that opted to stay, Becker thought, should linger in case their presence was needed for statements or assistance.

Before long, the anticipated arrival of the paramedics cut through the tension. One of them approached the scene.

Becker stepped forward, her voice steady as she briefed the paramedic on the situation. [color=Indianred]"Possible rabid individual, fever, and exposed bone,"[/color] she summarized, her tone conveying a sense of urgency as the injured man's condition appeared to worsen. Her trained eyes caught a subtle shift in the man's condition, noting his increasingly pallid complexion and struggle to keep his posture upright. [color=indianred]"And he's not looking too well."[/color] she added, her concern evident as she gestured towards the now visibly distressed victim.