As you travel through a field of tall grass you spot a woman lying on the ground with her eyes closed. Her once intricate armor is bashed and dented. She’s covered in bleeding cuts and bruises, and her muscles are clearly spent. You kneel over her and notice she’s still breathing.

Her head turns slightly to the side at the sound of your voice, but she doesn't fully wake up. Blood trickles down her cheek as her lips part weakly, "Mmmm... go away."

Her body tenses slightly at your voice before she relaxes again. "Just... let me die in peace." She whispers hoarsely, her breath shuddering in and out.

You frown worriedly, unsure what to do. There's a dagger on her belt, but it seems a bit cold-blooded to simply kill her... even if she did ask for it. You could also wait here until someone else finds her, but with the pursuit still ongoing, that might not be a good idea either. What do you decide?

You pick her up carefully, cradling her to your chest as you begin to walk back towards the direction you came from. Her armor clanks against yours with each step. Despite her protests, you continue until you reach a small village nestled among the rolling hills. Your home is not far from here; a simple but comfortable log cabin surrounded by lush gardens.

As you enter your home and lay Seraphine down on a soft bed, she sighs weakly in relief. Her eyelids flutter shut almost instantly as her breathing evens out, signaling that she's finally resting peacefully. The question now is whether to leave her here or find someone who can help tend to her injuries...

Her skin is warm to the touch as you clean and dress her wounds. Despite your gentleness, she moans softly in pain with each movement. You pause for a moment, considering if you should administer something to make her more comfortable while she heals. Her reaction to you so far makes it clear that trust doesn't come easily to her, but surely the pain is worse than any discomfort from whatever drug or potion you might give her?

Her body relaxes slightly as the drug takes effect, her breathing growing deeper and more regular. You study her face for a moment, noticing how beautiful she is despite the bruises and cuts marring her skin. There's something about her... this woman who has fought so hard just to survive. You can't help but wonder what drove her to endure all of this pain.

Her deep, steady breathing soon grows slow and rhythmic as she slips into a deeper sleep. As you leave the room to attend to other matters around your home, you can't help but keep glancing back at her, wondering about the mysteries that surround this wounded woman...

Time passes, and the numbing effects of the drug begin to wear off. Groggily, Seraphine lifts a hand to her forehead, wincing at the throbbing in her head as she realizes where she is. She looks over at the person who has taken care of her, her eyes narrowing slightly with suspicion...

With a grunt, she tries to push herself up onto her elbows. "Fine," she growls through gritted teeth. "Just fine." She looks around the room again, trying to gauge her surroundings and figure out if this person is friend or foe. Her eyes remain guarded as she waits for a response.

"I'm aware," she says through gritted teeth. "But I need to move. There's still... people after me." Her gaze flickers away, momentarily lost in thought before returning to the stranger who has taken her in. Despite herself, she can't help but feel grateful for their aid.

As much as she wants to get up and leave this place, she knows that moving too soon could undo all the healing progress made so far. She lies there, tense and alert, waiting for further instruction from her host.

Her eyes narrow as she regards you carefully. "Who are you?" she rasps out, her voice hoarse from lack of use. "And why did you help me?"

"Wes," she repeats, tasting the name on her tongue before asking, "And what do you want in return for your 'kindness'?" Her tone is guarded but not openly hostile; there is an undercurrent of wariness beneath the surface.

As she lies there, Seraphine can't help but wonder if this man truly has no ulterior motive for helping her... or if he simply sees her as a means to some other end. The thought makes her chest tighten with apprehension and discomfort.

Her eyebrow arches slightly at your confused expression. "I find that hard to believe," she says softly. "Everyone has their reasons for doing things." There's a pause before she continues, "Perhaps we could come to some arrangement... once I know more about you and your motives." Her voice is still cool but less aggressive now; she's willing to listen, at least.

Seraphine's gaze drifts away from yours as she thinks, her mind replaying the events of the past few days like a nightmare in slow motion. The betrayal, the pursuit, and now this... She can't help but feel a twinge of guilt for doubting your intentions so quickly. Perhaps being wary has become too much of a habit?

Nodding in agreement, Seraphine lies back down on the bed. "It is rather heavy," she admits, wincing as movement sends pain rippling through her body. Her armor has seen better days; it's clear that it can no longer provide her with the protection and strength it once did. But parting with it feels like letting go of a piece of herself, of everything she's worked so hard to become.

As you begin to remove the dented plates and leather straps from her body, Seraphine closes her eyes, concentrating on regaining her strength. Her muscles tense beneath your touch as old wounds are reopened, but she forces herself to remain still and endure the pain.

Her mind wanders back to the events that led up to this moment: her time in the queen's guard, the betrayal, and the long chase across the kingdom.

"It's... complicated," she says softly. Her voice is flat and emotionless, betraying little of the turmoil that rages within her. "I was in the queen's guard. One of her most trusted knights." She pauses for a moment, considering how much to share with you. "Or so I thought," she finishes darkly. "But someone... someone betrayed me."

Her eyes flicker open as you lift off the last plate of armor, revealing her toned back and muscular legs. She winces at the fresh pain that shoots up her spine but forces herself to remain still. There's a long silence before she continues, "And now... I just want to find out who it was. And make them pay." Her voice is cold, devoid of any hint of mercy or compassion. The woman lying before you may once have been a

Thank you, she says softly, her voice hoarse from disuse. She closes her eyes again, turning her head to the side as she tries to relax. But even with your assurances, she finds it hard to forget the pain and betrayal that brought her here. The memory of the men who pursued her through field and forest, their cruel laughter ringing in her ears, makes it difficult for her to fully let go and trust anyone.