Climb inside the carriage

Trembling from the cold, and a little from fear, you climb into the dark interior of the carriage. You can just make out the edge of the seat, and you sink down onto the buttery soft leather. You jump as the door swings shut, trapping you inside, and a sense of panic fills your chest. This is a trap.

You hear the skritch of a match being struck and you blink hard as your eyes are dazzled by the light. As the carriage lurches into motion again, you stare across the compartment at a young human male. He's handsome, you suppose, in a plain, muddy sort of way, his skin tan, his hair and eyes brown. His features are pleasant and delicate enough, if he had the right coloring, he might almost be as pretty as a faerie.

The match in his hand goes out, plunging them back into darkness.

"I'm Malik," he says, his voice tight and rough, as if he were in pain. "Do you have a name?"

"Quince," you reply warily. He hasn't tried to fuck you yet, which, if the stories you've heard about humans can be believed, is very unusual, but you're not sure if you should trust him. He could be up to something.

"Nice to meet you, Quince. What are you doing all alone in the forest?"