Ill-Made Martyr [Open]

MaeA Maea too paused and stared, the sound of the door slamming open having brought her sharply from her own thoughts. Just as well, too, as any moment spent unoccupied had her brooding and grim faced, feeling as lost and desperate as the young man in the doorway looked. The girl hesitated, looked about to see whether anyone else would do anything, but when no one seemed inclined she took a hesitant step towards him. This was the second time in a very short while that a dark-haired stranger appeared in front of her, and though this time was less dramatic, it had more the sense of urgency to it she expected from an arrival. If indeed this was the case... but somehow Maea though it vad to be. "What is wrong?" she asked him, gently as she could. "Do you need help with something?" General questions, but they would spare herself embarrassment in case he was less lost than be looked. you're so cold, but you feel alive.