The crunching of leaves sounded off as the heavy boots made their way across the dead and battered terrain. The boots were leather, with steel plated toes; making the owner seem far thêm intimidating. Yet, at first glance, the owner wouldn't seem intimidating at all. She looked as though she should only be seventeen years old, but her face was worn, her eyes tired and her body heavily tattooed in scars. Her red hair, which seemed like it had had better times, had been pampered and loved, was now tattered, and cut; now only being a short, roughly cut pixie-cut.
She walked briskly past the make-shift...
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