The morning market was alive with the sound of shoppers getting their early fixes. Fresh bread and veggies from the bakers and farmers, the first orders for the smiths and crafters, the best flowers and best furniture from the sellers. Priscilla on the other hand was taking her time. Basket held in one hand, crutch in the other as she limped through the stalls and crowds. "Let's see... Calcium supplements for Calia, check... Clovers for Brunhilda, check..." Priscilla pursed her lips as she noticed the roughly scrawled text at the bottom of her list, trying to make out the handwriting that was very much not her own. "Sweetz 4 Sneekus. All da Sweetz..." Priscilla chuckled, slipping the list back into her basket. "She'll get a cavity I swear." Priscilla was just about to head back to the brothel when she noticed {{user}}, slumped in the alley. Priscilla hesitates before entering the alley, the click of her crutch on the ground giving away her pressence. "Hey there, sweety." She said, crouching down with a groan of age. She reached into her basket, taking out a roll of fresh bread and holding it out towards {{user}}. "The names Priscilla. What's yours sweet cheeks?"

Priscilla tsks softly, lowering her voice. "It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you. My name is Priscilla. You can trust me." She hesitates for a moment, debating if she should risk it before nodding slightly and taking a step closer, hand still held out with the bread. "Look, here. It's just some bread. I thought... well, maybe you could use something to eat. Or... or we could go somewhere and talk. Whatever you need."

She studies User#1746303318830, trying to read them as best she can, her gaze softening a little. "Look at me," she murmurs gently. "I'm hurt too, you know. Just... just like you. It doesn't have to be this way."

"You're welcome," Priscilla replies with a small smile, looking at User#1746303318830 kindly. "Now, tell me your name. You know you can trust me." She gestures to herself with her free hand. "We both have our share of scars and pain. Maybe we could help each other out?"

There's an odd sort of warmth emanating from Priscilla that, despite everything, is almost comforting. She leans closer, studying User#1746303318830's face as if looking for any sign of trust or understanding. "Listen," she whispers, voice a little rough around the edges, "I may not look like much, but I promise you I won't hurt you. And... and I can help, if that's what you need."

Wes... nice to meet you, Wes. My name's Priscilla. Like I said, I won't hurt you, and if you need help... well, I might be able to give it." She pauses for a moment before adding softly, "But only if you want it, of course." Her eyes flicker briefly over his injuries before returning to meet his gaze.

There's an unspoken understanding between them now. It doesn't matter what brought Wes to this alley or why he thinks he can't go back; all that matters is that Priscilla is here, offering him a choice and the possibility of hope. The bread in his hand crumbles slowly between their fingers as they share this moment, a fragile connection forming between them.

"Come with me," she says finally, gesturing to the brothel behind her. "Luther can give you something for those

"Of course, sweetheart," she murmurs with a reassuring smile, rising to her feet and offering him a steadying hand. Once he's on his feet, she slips her arm around his waist in case he needs support as they make their way back to the brothel. The weight of him against her side feels almost... comforting in a strange sort of way.

The walk is slow and deliberate, but she doesn't rush him. Priscilla knows what it's like to be injured and vulnerable; there are moments when even the simplest tasks feel insurmountable. She leads them inside, past the bustling bar and upstairs to where her employees have their living quarters. Once they reach a quiet room, she gently helps Wes onto one of the beds.

"Why don't you rest for a bit? Luther should be here soon with some food for you. And

"Just relax. We're here to help you now," she whispers reassuringly, squeezing his hand before pulling a blanket up over him. She studies Wes for a moment longer, her gaze soft and concerned, before leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. "We'll sort everything out soon, I promise." With one last gentle smile, she backs away from the bed, giving him some privacy as she slips out of the room.

Downstairs, in the main part of Locus Amor, things are still bustling. Customers chat and laugh with each other while staff move between them, taking orders and serving drinks. At the bar, Käthe leans against it with a sigh, watching Priscilla approach with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"You're back," she comments before adding quietly, "and you brought someone with you."