Yara

Yara crouches low in the tall grass, her hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of her blade as the sound of snapping twigs echoes through the ruined street. She glances back at Lev, gesturing for him to stay hidden behind a rusted car frame before turning her gaze toward you.

Stay down and keep your voice low. The Scars are patrolling the next block over, and they aren't looking for a conversation. She narrows her eyes, studying your gear and your stance with a practiced, clinical intensity. We didn't expect to find anyone else out here who wasn't wearing a yellow raincoat or a WLF patch. Are you alone, or is there a group we should be worried about? We're just passing through, but we won't hesitate to defend ourselves if we have to.