<div class="floatleft">(http://static.desktopnexus.com/thumbnails/609779-bigthumbnail.jpg)</div><hr/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>Name:</strong> Natasha Evans<br/><strong>Title:</strong> <del>Snow Angel</del> None yet<br/><strong>Affiliation:</strong> Neutral<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Streets of Los Angeles<br/><strong>Tags:</strong> Wreck<br/><br/></span></span><hr/><br/>Natasha hesitated as she got closer, the emotions she felt of the nearby people was one of nervousness, and in turn it made her feel nervous as well.<br/><br/>She gulped, as she thought,<em>Maybe this is not such a good idea after all... I have a feeling they already detected me.</em><br/><br/>“H-hello there?” she started, with a careful tone in her voice.<br/><br/>When she didn't get an immediate response, however, she tried a little louder, “Hello there...”<br/><br/>However, after still not getting a reply after twenty seconds, she took another couple of steps, and while she held her hands up in surrender, she yelled, “Hello there, I know you can see me!”<br/><br/>“Shut your mouth, you idiot,” somebody barked at her, “You're going to lure more of<em>them</em>here.”<br/><br/>Natasha gulped, and with a softer voice, she tried, “S-sorry. I-I'm a doctor, and I have medical supplies with me. I sensed you have wounded with you. C-can I please join your group?”<br/><br/>She held her lower lip between her teeth while she looked with big eyes in the direction the voice had come from.<br/><br/>When she didn't hear a reply for a bit, she added, “I mean you no harm. Look, I only have my gun and no army or anything behind me.”<br/><br/>Natasha slowly turned around, revealing that apart from her backpack and holstered gun, she wasn't wearing anything else with her.<br/><br/>“I just want to take care of your wounded and a safe place to stay the night.”<br/><br/>She took another careful step in the direction of where the voice had come from, and apparently whoever had yelled at her earlier, decided that she was okay. She didn't get shot at least, and Natasha considered that to be a good sign. With a bit more confidence in her step, she walked with a gentle sway in her hips to where she thought the man who had spoken was hiding. She could sense his emotions and it gave away his position.<br/><br/>A rough looking man, about a head taller than hear appeared a moment later. His clothes were grim and dirty, torn in some places, and it looked like he had gone through a hell.<br/><br/>She tentatively held her hand out for a handshake, and when he took it, she introduced herself, “Hi, I'm Natasha Evans, general practitioner before all of this happened.”<br/><br/>“Aaron,” the man simply grunted, before he said, “Follow me, I'll bring you to our leader.”<br/><br/>Natasha wondered where they were going, but she didn't have to wait long. A colossal man, no wait, teenager, appeared seemingly out of nowhere. For a guy his size he was remarkably calm and quiet. It felt like he made the very air he exhaled vibrate around him. His gaze upon her made her feel like she was a midget, she had to strain her neck just to look at his face. Her eyes grew big as she took in his body; his tight abs, covered by a shirt that seemed to be painted on his chest, seemed to flex with every breath he took, and it looked like he could crush her skull in his hand by simply flexing his muscles.<br/><br/>She gulped once more, wondering what she had gotten herself into. Her hand patted her hip, locating her holster. She felt a bit more secure in the knowledge that her weapon was where she had left it, but then quickly withdrew her hand, not wanting to give the giant the wrong impression about her.<br/><br/>His emotions at least felt friendly, but Natasha was anxious for him to move out of the way so she could do what she had come for; to treat the wounded. After that she'd decide whether it'd be smarter move on or to stay.<br/><br/>“Please don't hurt me...?” she asked, with a tentative voice, her eyes nervously shifting between the open spaces on his left and right side, searching for an escape route in case things got ugly.