Cy approached very slowly, eyes grey and sullen, arms covered with scars; there not an inch between the tissue and her hair white and lifeless. Even her skin seemed almost as white as the paper she was holding tightly with both of her hands as if her life depended upon it. She herself seemed light enough to blow away in the wind and very unsteady on her feet; the last couple of days had been sheer hell for her… and it wasn’t in a particularly normal way.
Cy’s written English was terrible but she had tried her hardest;
‘Sir? Sorry for intrusion. Looking for sister… wings… brown hair… blue eyes. Have you seen?’
Jesus lifted his head and took a short glance at the figure before him, a blink of surprise passing over his eyes as he noticed the brutal scars covering her body. But he didn’t so much as glance at them, not wanting his curiosities to cause offence to the female before him.
“Wings…brown hair…blue eyes.” He repeated, taking to his feet in order to match her eye-level. “I’m sorry, friend. I don’t think I have.” Jesus shrugged “Can I help you look for her?” He offered with a lighthearted smile.