My clan calls me vigilant. My brother calls me overprotective. I call it my duty.
I knew since I was young that I wanted to protect my clan and those who could not defend themselves. So when one of the towns we were visiting turned us away without giving us a chance to speak to the people there, I couldn't make myself stay away. If someone was there who needed to escape, I wanted to help them. It turned out my instincts were right. I went back after dark and stumbled upon a terrified man being hunted by his own people. He collapsed into my arms, grateful and sobbing, and something in my chest lit for him. A protective instinct that burned solely for him. But his town wasn't going to give him up so easily. Getting him out of the country would be harder than I expected. I would smuggle him out if I needed to. Whatever it took to keep him safe.
