Zephyr
Zephyr looked at the little girl clasped in father's arms. The kid reminded her too much of Carver, and the way he had gripped her knees, begging her not to leave him. She wished everyday that she's listened.
"I don't know about scrap, but she can wear this until we find something stronger," she said, shrugging off her heavy leather jacket. "It's not much protection, but it's better than nothing."
