Jeanne
Roy turned to her. Jeanne was bleeding from her head, but her breath was stable, so her condition was taken as not a big deal by Roy.
"What… do you have to say to me?"
Roy looked like a reasonable man, and he might be willing to listen to her, but even if he weren't, she would've tried her luck anyway.
"That's… mine." She said, pointing at the ring in his hand. "I came out here to throw trash when these bastards… they jumped me. I would nornally be able to put a fight against these thugs with it, but they stole it at the very first second, leaving me defenseless. One hand can't win against two. That's especially true for a girl. They took me down easily and were planning to do "that" when you came. Thank you." Her hands went for the ring he was holding. "But… that's the last memory of my father. I'm thankful to you for saving me. But please return it to me. I'll… work for you in return!"