"Shh… everyone be quiet."
A voice within a dark, musky room was the sole calming force.
The air was thick with dust and apprehension. Old, rusty tools cluttered the walls and the floor as a group of stray humans hid underneath the cover of an old shack.
They huddled closely together, shivering and praying to whatever god they believed would hear them.
Only one man seemed to be above the trembling humans.
He was a younger man with hair dyed red and dark brown skin.
His clothes were fit for travel. A jacket with muted colors and heavy boots caked with mud.
He is the sole figure who stands on his feet. Silently, he keeps his ear pressed to the old wooden boards and listens to the rumbling outside.
It sounds distant. With every passing moment, it seems to stray farther and farther away.
The man feels someone tap on his calf.
Looking down, he meets the teary gaze of a young girl, no older than fifteen.
