Hand in Hand: 3rd person limited story, with a focus on character interaction. Originally it was a branching story, but for the sake of space this has been changed:
Shaandia: :
Ashes of Memeories: 3rd person limited with a great deal of internal character development:

Shaandia

The man in black turned seething with rage to face Hod, who still had his hand outstretched.
“What the fuck do you want?” The hunter was eyeing Hod up and down as he spoke.
“Nothing from you, now go play I’m busy.” Hod barely even looked at the bigger man. He was already trying to relocate his prey.
The crimson on the man’s face went even darker. “You little mongrel, apologize now if you care to live!”
Hod ignored him as his eyes darted over the ground seeking any trace of where the girl had ended up. He turned and took no more than a step in the direction he believed she had gone when the other man grabbed his shoulder.
“Where the fuck are you goin’?”
Hod smacked his opponent’s hand off and turned away again.
“Prick!” He reached behind his back and began drawing his sword.
At the sound of metal grating against leather Hod’s attention snapped back to the hunter. Quicker than the big man had expected Hod reached out and grabbed the hand drawing the sword, holding it still, while Hod’s other hand drew his dagger and drove it into the hunter’s left side below his ribs. The big man was frozen for a moment from shock, but before he could react, Hod drug the blade across to the same spot on his opponent’s right and pulled it away. The big man fell, his entrails spilling out over the rocky ground.
Hod turned and headed to where the girl had fallen making his way through the small crowd that had formed around the fight. After surveying the area there was no sign of her. He cursed and headed back to his tent.

*

Talos was heading back from the baker’s stall when he heard the shouts of “fight.” He had found the festivities to be rather dull this year, and a good brawl was just the sort of entertainment that was lacking. As he shuffled passed the crowds he noticed a small group huddled together on the ground. The fight seemed to be behind this kneeling collective as a wall of men formed just behind them. Though he was interested in the fight, curiosity had always been his weakness and he stopped to see what had happened. When he stepped up behind one of the stooping men he saw the beautiful girl in the golden robes. Her eyes were open but she just lay there.
Talos unwrapped his seasoned loaf and took a bite. “What’s going on? Why are you just laying there?” He was speaking to the young women in between mouthfuls.
She didn’t respond, she just slowly turned to look at him. Her eyes seemed to focus on him for a second before returning to their previously glazed façade.
“What’s wrong? Are you a mute?”
“…”
“Hey, what happened to her?” He spoke to no one in particular as he tore off apiece bread and offered it to the young girl.
“I-I don’t know she was just laying her when I got here.”
She reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling it up to her face. She began sniffing at the toasted lump as if she had never seen such a thing before. Once she was certain that it was not dangerous she slowly removed the bread from his hand and stuffed it into her mouth. She chewed vigorously for a short while before swallowing the large morsel.
Talos sat smiling at the young woman’s actions. She looked up to him and smiled back, then she crawled up to him wrapped her arms around his waist. Though a little shocked and confused he didn’t push her away. The other hunters that had gathered around the girl were snickering as they rose to leave.
The man that had been sitting closest to Talos gave him a slap on the shoulder. “Seems she’s your responsibility now, mate.”
“Yeah, seems that way.” Talos shook his head, wondering how to explain this to Vallis.

*

The Hunter’s Festival was comprised of many of the most dangerous warriors living at the time. More ferocious people could be found but not in nearly the same density. As a way of preventing those attending the festival from fighting amongst themselves the festival committees would set up tents of varying colors with the most well known groups getting the tents closer to the Festival Square, and the more obscure clans skirting the outer edges of the camp. In this way weaker groups were less inclined to disrupt the activities for fear of inciting the wrath of famous, or in many cases infamous, clans.
At this year’s Festival the Square was located near the canyons edge, with only seven groups on the side with the cliff. A twelve foot natural rock wall ran along the majority of the cliff’s edge with only a few spots lacking the stone gate. Against this wall were tents of white and yellow. At the far right of the Square sat a large yellow tent with pots and sleeping bags strewn about the outside. To the left of the tent sat a tall man. His head was mostly hidden under the large brim of a brown leather hat; the only discernable feature was the long thin beard snaking out of the hat’s shadow. He sat on the ground leaning back against the stone wall apparently sleeping. A long sand colored cloak stretched away from where he sat, hiding his legs in its length.
Talos had told the girl to follow him, but she barely seemed able to stand, let alone make the ten minute walk back to his tent. He had offered to carry her, and he guessed she must understand him, with the way she hopped onto his back. The glazed look to her eyes had vanished, now they glimmered with excitement as she gazed curiously about the camp.
As Talos approached the tent Vallis pulled the hat off of his eyes to see who it was. He smiled and waved at his friend before climbing to his feet. He walked over to Talos still smiling.
“Oh, my mistake, I thought you said you were getting bread.” Vallis pulled his hat back until it fell onto his back staying in place from the strap around his neck. There was mischief in his golden eyes.
“That is what I said.” Talos spoke slowly wondering what Vallis meant.