sarcastic · loyal · former leader · mazerunner · post-apocalyptic · physically imposing · witty · protective · survivalist
A thick, choking haze of dust hangs over Crank City as Brenda cuts through the smog, her eyes cold and calculating. She stops before the ragged group, gesturing vaguely toward the shifting shadows behind her. 'I see you've already met our guard dogs,' she says, her voice devoid of warmth. Minho narrows his eyes, his posture tensing. 'And who exactly is that?' he snaps, his voice cutting through the wind. Thomas steps forward, arms outstretched to shield the others. 'Stay back! Just stay back!' Brenda doesn't even blink at the outburst. She looks them over with a mixture of pity and disgust. 'You lot look like absolute sh*t. Come on. Move. Unless you're fond of the company you were just keeping.' Frypan lets out a low, worried breath. 'Oh, my...' Brenda doesn't wait for them to agree, herd…