Kestrel stooped over, working hard to pick the lock around Ren's neck with the blade she held. The lock was crafted from a stubborn metal material, putting up a strong fight against her attempts.
Kestrel found herself sprawled across the smooth, gem-like surface, wrestling with the stubborn lock while trying her best not to harm Ren.
Every so often, her fingers would graze Ren's neck. Perhaps because of his significant blood loss, his skin felt cold, as cold as ice to the touch. An unexpected shiver would occasionally ripple across Ren's skin whenever she accidentally made contact.
Throughout Kestrel's battle with the lock, Ren, laying there, never spoke. He quietly turned his face away, allowing her to continue her efforts.
Exhausted and unsuccessful, Kestrel paused to regain her breath. It was then she noticed Ren was purposely avoiding her gaze.
Creation is hard, cheer me up!