<span style="color: #40BFFF"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic"><br/>Unaware of those in her surroundings or the dangerous potential that those beings held for her, Gwendalin held a practically innocent mindset as she continued her dragging trek toward the tunnel she would call a bed and something akin to a home for the night.  Her lids were heavy and drooping and her feet barely managed to avoid dragging the toes of her shoes through the grass and the dirt.  Clearly the girl was not atop her game.<br/><br/>Sounds of running feet, ghostly and supernatural, went unheard to her unfocussed ears.  She paid no mind at all to the sense of unease that radiated from her newly acquired stalker.  It was normal for Gwendalin to feel uneasy.  She was almost constantly in a state of nervousness.  That had started the day she left a comfortable home and became a ward of the streets.  At her age, there were very few things in the world that were <span style="text-decoration: underline">not</span> out to get her.<br/><br/>While her stalker bearing his ill intent stalked quickly closer, she was left unaware of the alternate guardian as he rested against the ancient oak.  As she clambered between swing sets in an attempt to create a short-cut of sorts, a voice interrupted her.  Groggily, the girl turned to face the speaker.  His voice was calm and welcoming which clashed in perfect balance to the overbearing aura that weighed on her nerves.</span><br/><br/>"Yes?"<span style="font-weight: bold"> she asked the man in his abnormal clothes and his mismatched colors.  Her words were as sluggish as her body and it came out with the slur of sleep dragging at the tail.  The question was a simple one but enough to get through the encounter.  Until given a reason, after all, she wasn't the type to be rude to a stranger.<br/></span></span></span>