F
FishWolf
Guest
Original poster
Felix stepped back from Atlas's unconscious body, and examined the hand from afar. It was beggining to bruise and darken, but at least it was straight. Honestly, Felix was glad he had passed out. He didn't want Atlas to feel the pain for too long. Felix then wrapped the wrist, tight, and then sat down on a log, putting his head in his hands. He looked up to see only a few people walking about. A woman urgently ran from one tent to another, and returned carrying supplies. The moon was up, and it looked like a small, curved, luminescent splinter burrowing into the black skin of the sky. He didn't know what he was doing here. He should've died in that city. But something made him survive. Whatever it was had automatically deemed him useful in the camp. But he had been useless in the attack. I guess we will pack up and move tomorrow, right away. That is, if enough people are well enough to walk. If not, the jeep will have some new riders.