“What the hell…?” He mutters to himself, wondering how his wounds had dried up so quickly in the soaking wet rain. What was in that milk they gave him?
Guts curls up into a ball beneath his blanket once he checks his legs for the fourth or fifth time to make sure there were no more thorns embedded in them. They still itched like a scab as the wounds spilled over slowly with bright red. Hopefully it wasn’t infected from the rancid creature.
He earnestly felt too miserable to say something smart back to the girls, eyes drooping half-shut with weariness. His face looked okay, beyond a few scuffs and the ebbing sharpness in his eyes. The adrenaline of the fight had worn off, leaving him with a rich buffet of burning and aching. A post-fighting drink (a real drink) would do a lot better for him now, he thinks.
“The bath’s for washing the blood off, ain’t it?” He says, not considering the particular Enclave Sister that would have to take care of the aftermath.
no subject
Guts curls up into a ball beneath his blanket once he checks his legs for the fourth or fifth time to make sure there were no more thorns embedded in them. They still itched like a scab as the wounds spilled over slowly with bright red. Hopefully it wasn’t infected from the rancid creature.
He earnestly felt too miserable to say something smart back to the girls, eyes drooping half-shut with weariness. His face looked okay, beyond a few scuffs and the ebbing sharpness in his eyes. The adrenaline of the fight had worn off, leaving him with a rich buffet of burning and aching. A post-fighting drink (a real drink) would do a lot better for him now, he thinks.
“The bath’s for washing the blood off, ain’t it?” He says, not considering the particular Enclave Sister that would have to take care of the aftermath.