There. That wasn't so fucking hard, was it? If the world was more like Dutchy, that is to say cooperative, Kimberly would have been in one hell of a better mood. Then again, she would also still have her hat and the use of her left arm. Of course, now wasn't the time to make a huge fit about that. The announcements were going, and Kimberly kept an ear out, just to be on the safe side. No point being misinformed. Besides, there were a few names she was waiting for. One in particular.
You'd better not be dead, Kris. I swear, if you've gotten yourself killed, I'll fucking find your corpse and feed it to bears. I'll cut your body to pieces and use it as fishing tackle. I'll put your head on a spike. You do not get to die until I give you permission.
The list was not that exciting. Blah blah danger zones, yadda yadda Reiko and Maxwell (though hey, at least Reiko was doing fine. She'd definitely be useful in dealing with Kris), on and on and on. Names ticked by, and faces too, but they made practically no impression, except for Eve. Eve Walker-Luther. Nice enough girl. Kimberly had bumped into her on her first day back to school, had chatted with her a bit. Damn shame for her kid, but that's how life went on SOTF.
Somewhere in there, Dutchy had a total mental breakdown, which made actually hearing Danya's words a pain. Kimberly supposed she should be worried for Dutchy or something, but since he wasn't actively dying or trying to claw his collar off, she couldn't raise herself beyond mildly-aggravated ambivalence. Her emotional reserves had been drained getting mugged and getting pissed off. Sympathy was something that just didn't seem worth the effort anymore.
The announcement had probably woken up everyone else in camp. Wonderful. At least it would keep them too distracted to waste time wondering what she was doing hanging out by Dutchy's sleeping bag. Kimberly made her way back to her own sleeping area, then turned towards Roland, a ways away. She couldn't be sure if he was awake or not, but what the hell, this was important information, and she was ready to have other people to talk to again anyways.
"So, looks like another busy day," she said, no longer keeping her voice down. "Maybe we'll get lucky and actually catch up with Kris this time."
That was, after all, the paramount goal. Then, after Kris, Kimberly was going to find Jeremy Franco for a little talk. Nothing too bad. Just rub his face in his assumptions and actions a little. It wouldn't be hard, not with one of the island's big killers under her belt (though Kris hadn't killed today, for some reason. Perhaps she had run out of ammunition). Oh, and Kimberly wouldn't take the hat back. No, she would let him keep it. Let it remind him of her. Let it linger on the back of his mind.
That sounded like a plan.
Dimer
-
MurderWeasel
- Posts: 2566
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
Bridget had finished cutting of another portion of her hair when she heard the quiet voice of Sarah say "here". It didn't take a genius to determine what she was asking for. After a moment of hesitation, the redhead gave up the instrument to the other girl without looking. She felt the scissors get taken from her hand, and shortly the unusual sensation of her hair being cut could be felt. As she sat on that log in God knows where, the locks of crimson hair she had so cherished for most of her life being taken from her, she found her eyes blurring, part from the tears, and part from her zoning out.
---
"Hey new kid!"
Bridget looked up from the book she was reading, wondering who had called for her. She was 8 years old, alone and scared in a brand new school. The other kids tended to keep their distance, although there were a rare few who decided picking on the new redheaded kid was a good idea. And why not? She didn't fight back. This girl standing in front of her was the first one to talk to her. Even back then, Raina Morales was a big girl. Standing at a towering 4'8" tall, the Spanish girl pretty much towered over her classmates. She was a kind girl however, always trying to make the others laugh and feel good about them time.
"Hi." Bridget said quietly to the smiling girl, trying to hide her thick accent as best she could. The Irish girl felt dwarfed in comparison, standing just shy of 4 feet. She looked up, noting that Raina was holding a basketball in her hand. She had been playing against some of the other kids in their class, but they presumably got bored of playing with her.
"You wanna play a game with me?" The Spanish girl asked, holding her hand out for Bridget to grab.
The redhead smiled, putting her book in her bag and letting the girl haul her up. Raina passed her the ball, and Bridget experimentally dribbled it. She failed horribly, the ball hitting her foot and skittering back to the larger girl. Bridget smiled meekly over her lack of co-ordination, which just made the other girl laugh. Not a condescending laugh, but a friendly laugh.
"My name's Raina by the way." the large girl said as she picked up the ball.
"I'm Bridget."
---
A small smile crossed Bridget's face as she remembered when she first met her friend. It seemed like it was just yesterday, but it had been nearly ten years. Ten years, and now she wasn't going to get the chance to see her face again, hear her infectious laugh. All because of one person who for whatever reason, decided to attack and kill the gentle giant.
---
"You're such a cheater."
Bridget laughed at Raina's mock angry face. It felt good to laugh, especially after the events of that day. She let her temper get the better of her, and was genuinely surprised that the girl she had gotten into it with didn't report her to the office. Either way, she was happy. She had done the one thing that she had been trying to do for damn near 10 years: beat Raina Morales in basketball.
"Am not." the redhead responded in mock betrayal. The fact was she had used somewhat underhanded tactics to win. Knowing full well Raina knew about her weak knee, the redhead had used this to her advantage to get the larger friend off center to get the winning basket. Still, it was all in good fun, so she knew that Raina probably wouldn't count it or something.
"Yeah well, next time you actually hurt your knee I'm not helping you." Raina retorted while punching the smaller girl in the arm. The two friends laughed as the walked towards their homes.
---
Life had been so normal. The last thing Bridget had expected was to be thrown into this horrible situation. The worst part for the Irish girl is that since being thrown into this hell of an island, she had failed on two occasions to protect someone she cared for. The first was allowing Kimberly to get shot, and the second was of course, her best friend Raina.
Sarah continued to got the long locks of hair from Bridget's head, and with every snip of the scissors, Bridget's mind became more and more resolved. She was going to find Reiko. She didn't know what she would do when she found her, but she was going to answer for her actions. Sarah might not like the idea, but Bridget wasn't too concerned about that. Sarah wanted to find Reiko. Hell, Kimberly wanted to find her as well. It wouldn't be hard to stick with them and find Reiko. Reiko needed to answer for her actions...
---
"Hey new kid!"
Bridget looked up from the book she was reading, wondering who had called for her. She was 8 years old, alone and scared in a brand new school. The other kids tended to keep their distance, although there were a rare few who decided picking on the new redheaded kid was a good idea. And why not? She didn't fight back. This girl standing in front of her was the first one to talk to her. Even back then, Raina Morales was a big girl. Standing at a towering 4'8" tall, the Spanish girl pretty much towered over her classmates. She was a kind girl however, always trying to make the others laugh and feel good about them time.
"Hi." Bridget said quietly to the smiling girl, trying to hide her thick accent as best she could. The Irish girl felt dwarfed in comparison, standing just shy of 4 feet. She looked up, noting that Raina was holding a basketball in her hand. She had been playing against some of the other kids in their class, but they presumably got bored of playing with her.
"You wanna play a game with me?" The Spanish girl asked, holding her hand out for Bridget to grab.
The redhead smiled, putting her book in her bag and letting the girl haul her up. Raina passed her the ball, and Bridget experimentally dribbled it. She failed horribly, the ball hitting her foot and skittering back to the larger girl. Bridget smiled meekly over her lack of co-ordination, which just made the other girl laugh. Not a condescending laugh, but a friendly laugh.
"My name's Raina by the way." the large girl said as she picked up the ball.
"I'm Bridget."
---
A small smile crossed Bridget's face as she remembered when she first met her friend. It seemed like it was just yesterday, but it had been nearly ten years. Ten years, and now she wasn't going to get the chance to see her face again, hear her infectious laugh. All because of one person who for whatever reason, decided to attack and kill the gentle giant.
---
"You're such a cheater."
Bridget laughed at Raina's mock angry face. It felt good to laugh, especially after the events of that day. She let her temper get the better of her, and was genuinely surprised that the girl she had gotten into it with didn't report her to the office. Either way, she was happy. She had done the one thing that she had been trying to do for damn near 10 years: beat Raina Morales in basketball.
"Am not." the redhead responded in mock betrayal. The fact was she had used somewhat underhanded tactics to win. Knowing full well Raina knew about her weak knee, the redhead had used this to her advantage to get the larger friend off center to get the winning basket. Still, it was all in good fun, so she knew that Raina probably wouldn't count it or something.
"Yeah well, next time you actually hurt your knee I'm not helping you." Raina retorted while punching the smaller girl in the arm. The two friends laughed as the walked towards their homes.
---
Life had been so normal. The last thing Bridget had expected was to be thrown into this horrible situation. The worst part for the Irish girl is that since being thrown into this hell of an island, she had failed on two occasions to protect someone she cared for. The first was allowing Kimberly to get shot, and the second was of course, her best friend Raina.
Sarah continued to got the long locks of hair from Bridget's head, and with every snip of the scissors, Bridget's mind became more and more resolved. She was going to find Reiko. She didn't know what she would do when she found her, but she was going to answer for her actions. Sarah might not like the idea, but Bridget wasn't too concerned about that. Sarah wanted to find Reiko. Hell, Kimberly wanted to find her as well. It wouldn't be hard to stick with them and find Reiko. Reiko needed to answer for her actions...
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Rocky.
Sarah did her best not to fidget as she continued cutting. Bridget had already cut it fairly close, so it was just a matter of not cutting it any closer. Though she tried to concentrate on that task alone, she started listening to Danya's sickening chatter. She wasn't sure how she'd been able to shut it out for the past minutes. Even with the distortion of hundreds of speakers spread throughout the forest, the words and the malice behind them were all too easy to discern.
The names of a couple of students washed out of her mind almost as quickly as they came. Vanessa Struthers, David Matson, Tom Guthrie; they were just people in her classes, someone she walked past in a corridor, someone who was sometimes up on stage... And now they were just statistics.
Violetta Lindsberg. Jane. Cyrille's name had been there the morning before and now Jane was gone too. It wasn't fair. She'd looked up to Jane, and the two of them together had made her feel better about being the way she was, made her feel better about life in general and embodied everything she wanted her and Reiko to be. They were such a cute couple. She smiled at the thought, until it faded. They weren't coming back.
Neither was Trevor, he was nice. He wasn't her closest friend but their paths had this funny way of crossing all of the time, they had almost too much in common, in their ideals at least, and William had killed him. She'd grown to like William after the last school camp, he was down to earth, literally, and although the way he dressed put her off before she got to know him, once she did it was nice to hang around with someone so close to nature. She could remember sitting on a rock in the bush halfway up some trail in the Smokey Hills State Forest just taking in the scenery, and the boy she'd never taken the time to talk to stopping to join her for a while. And now he'd shot someone.
Scott McGregor was the name of that aloof, talented guy from her art class. They'd never talked about anything much more than art, and she sort of regretted never makeing the effort to really break the ice and get to know him better. Naoko was talented and aloof in his own way, she'd had even less to do with him, and he'd apparently killed the young artist.
The announcements ended with one of their destinations being named a dangerzone, and her biology classmate being named the "best killer". Soon her namesake wouldn't be far away, but she prayed they wouldn't meet.
Soon after the PA system fell silent, Sarah finished cutting Bridget's hair, and it now sat even shorter than her own. She tussled it a little and, satisfied, passed the scissors back to her. Without giving the redhead the opportunity to thank her she leaned forward, wrapped her arms over her shoulders and softly hugged her for a moment. It felt more honest, more real than any apology she could say.
It only lasted a few seconds, before she let go, picked the notepad up from the ground where it had fallen and stood. She took one more glance at Bridget before walking back to camp. Despite, or maybe because of the announcements, she had a fervour in her step. She'd made a decision. She'd hoped, perhaps foolishly, that the second day wouldn't have as much death and destruction as the first, but now it was obvious they were fighting against time as much as anything. They were going to have to start moving, start picking up the pace, and she was going to lead by example. She still wanted to find Reiko, but if they were going to survive, they were going to have to start acting seriously now.
The names of a couple of students washed out of her mind almost as quickly as they came. Vanessa Struthers, David Matson, Tom Guthrie; they were just people in her classes, someone she walked past in a corridor, someone who was sometimes up on stage... And now they were just statistics.
Violetta Lindsberg. Jane. Cyrille's name had been there the morning before and now Jane was gone too. It wasn't fair. She'd looked up to Jane, and the two of them together had made her feel better about being the way she was, made her feel better about life in general and embodied everything she wanted her and Reiko to be. They were such a cute couple. She smiled at the thought, until it faded. They weren't coming back.
Neither was Trevor, he was nice. He wasn't her closest friend but their paths had this funny way of crossing all of the time, they had almost too much in common, in their ideals at least, and William had killed him. She'd grown to like William after the last school camp, he was down to earth, literally, and although the way he dressed put her off before she got to know him, once she did it was nice to hang around with someone so close to nature. She could remember sitting on a rock in the bush halfway up some trail in the Smokey Hills State Forest just taking in the scenery, and the boy she'd never taken the time to talk to stopping to join her for a while. And now he'd shot someone.
Scott McGregor was the name of that aloof, talented guy from her art class. They'd never talked about anything much more than art, and she sort of regretted never makeing the effort to really break the ice and get to know him better. Naoko was talented and aloof in his own way, she'd had even less to do with him, and he'd apparently killed the young artist.
The announcements ended with one of their destinations being named a dangerzone, and her biology classmate being named the "best killer". Soon her namesake wouldn't be far away, but she prayed they wouldn't meet.
Soon after the PA system fell silent, Sarah finished cutting Bridget's hair, and it now sat even shorter than her own. She tussled it a little and, satisfied, passed the scissors back to her. Without giving the redhead the opportunity to thank her she leaned forward, wrapped her arms over her shoulders and softly hugged her for a moment. It felt more honest, more real than any apology she could say.
It only lasted a few seconds, before she let go, picked the notepad up from the ground where it had fallen and stood. She took one more glance at Bridget before walking back to camp. Despite, or maybe because of the announcements, she had a fervour in her step. She'd made a decision. She'd hoped, perhaps foolishly, that the second day wouldn't have as much death and destruction as the first, but now it was obvious they were fighting against time as much as anything. They were going to have to start moving, start picking up the pace, and she was going to lead by example. She still wanted to find Reiko, but if they were going to survive, they were going to have to start acting seriously now.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Gwbiiii.
Bridget didn't particularly pay attention to the announcements that were still going as Sarah cut her hair. With each snip of the scissors, she felt her head get lighter, almost as if a pressure was being lifted from her, only to be replaced by a heavier, less tangible weight. The redhead had cherished her hair. She didn't particularly care about her looks in general, but her hair was a different story. Sure, it was a pain, and she often spent a good 3 hours a day maintaining it much to the annoyance of her sister, but it was her proudest aspect of herself. Admittedly, she partially did it for the attention it brought, having such unique hair. But that was gone now, the red locks of hair spread out on the forest floor.
The no former long-haired redhead stared at the ground, watching the crimson strands float away on the breeze. The last remnants of her old life were being carried away against her will, much like everything that had happened in the last few days. But no more. From this point on, the old Bridget was dead. There would be no more hesitation, no more failure. She would not fail to get what she wanted.
Sarah's hug came as a bit of a shock, but Bridget didn't react. She knew that the girl was just trying to be helpful, and the gesture was appreciated, but it didn't make her feel much better. Sarah finished her hug, and walked away. Raising a hand, the redhead felt her newly cut hair, the sensation of it being so short giving her a weird feeling. It was going to take some getting used to, but now she wouldn't have any physical baggage at least. The rest... she needed to set that aside. Sarah needed her to be at her best if whatever she was planning was going to work. They also needed to get better weapons. The redhead had an idea about how they could go about that, but she would wait to bring it up. For now she was content on returning to the camp and seeing about getting things going for the time being. She was quick to pack up what meager belongings she had before preparing to leave their little campground, ready to go once everyone else was prepared.
((Bridget Connolly continued in The Long Road Home))
The no former long-haired redhead stared at the ground, watching the crimson strands float away on the breeze. The last remnants of her old life were being carried away against her will, much like everything that had happened in the last few days. But no more. From this point on, the old Bridget was dead. There would be no more hesitation, no more failure. She would not fail to get what she wanted.
Sarah's hug came as a bit of a shock, but Bridget didn't react. She knew that the girl was just trying to be helpful, and the gesture was appreciated, but it didn't make her feel much better. Sarah finished her hug, and walked away. Raising a hand, the redhead felt her newly cut hair, the sensation of it being so short giving her a weird feeling. It was going to take some getting used to, but now she wouldn't have any physical baggage at least. The rest... she needed to set that aside. Sarah needed her to be at her best if whatever she was planning was going to work. They also needed to get better weapons. The redhead had an idea about how they could go about that, but she would wait to bring it up. For now she was content on returning to the camp and seeing about getting things going for the time being. She was quick to pack up what meager belongings she had before preparing to leave their little campground, ready to go once everyone else was prepared.
((Bridget Connolly continued in The Long Road Home))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Rocky.
Roland sat perfectly still. He wanted to head what Kris and Dutchy had to say to each other. He rested his head in a position closer to them, but which still looked like he was asleep.
As he listened to the two of them talk, he couldn't help but feel concerned; he wanted to listen less and less, but he felt like he needed to. He needed to hear Kris whisper to Dutchy in a menacing tone, causing Dutchy to quietly break down and agree to whatever the hell Kris wanted him to do. Once Dutchy broke off from her, she smiled, this time saying something he could make out.
"So, looks like another busy day. Maybe we'll get lucky and actually catch up with Kris this time."
Is... is that what she thought their goal was? That crazy bitch! Roland clenched his fists, hoping that these involuntary movements didn't give him away. Fortunately, he didn't worry for long, because the sound of derelict loudspeakers turning on startled him into an awake position. He paid rapt attention to the names, trying to see if he knew any of them.
Rose Codreanu. He only saw her once, but they had a really good conversation about William Gibson last month. Jesus, she fell asleep? Now that he thought about it, it was a wonder more students didn't fail to adjust their sleep cycle enough to catch the right announcement and haul ass. Maybe most of the ones who did had the right friends with them.
Harold Fisher. He was on the debate team with Roland. He remembered Harold confusing debate with being a douchebag pretty much every time they met, and to tell the truth, it didn't really surprise him to hear that he went the way Danya described him.
Trevor Duncan. He wasn't a part of Roland's usual circle of activists, but he was no less of one in Roland's eyes. He wished they had the opportunity to hang out more; they had a lot of fun ridiculing reality TV that one time.
Those were the three he recognized. Other than them, he just concentrated on memorizing the repeat killers. Not that he could really connect faces to those names. He stretched and pulled his bag to his shoulder, acting like he just woke up as the announcement wrapped up.
Don't pull a Codreanu? Roland grimaced at that joke, wishing violent anal prolapse on their tormentor. Despite the fact that they weren't quite in a danger zone, Bridget seemed to be taking that advice and splitting anyway. Roland cast a worried glance at Dutchy, then followed her.
((Roland Hayes continued in The Long Road Home))
As he listened to the two of them talk, he couldn't help but feel concerned; he wanted to listen less and less, but he felt like he needed to. He needed to hear Kris whisper to Dutchy in a menacing tone, causing Dutchy to quietly break down and agree to whatever the hell Kris wanted him to do. Once Dutchy broke off from her, she smiled, this time saying something he could make out.
"So, looks like another busy day. Maybe we'll get lucky and actually catch up with Kris this time."
Is... is that what she thought their goal was? That crazy bitch! Roland clenched his fists, hoping that these involuntary movements didn't give him away. Fortunately, he didn't worry for long, because the sound of derelict loudspeakers turning on startled him into an awake position. He paid rapt attention to the names, trying to see if he knew any of them.
Rose Codreanu. He only saw her once, but they had a really good conversation about William Gibson last month. Jesus, she fell asleep? Now that he thought about it, it was a wonder more students didn't fail to adjust their sleep cycle enough to catch the right announcement and haul ass. Maybe most of the ones who did had the right friends with them.
Harold Fisher. He was on the debate team with Roland. He remembered Harold confusing debate with being a douchebag pretty much every time they met, and to tell the truth, it didn't really surprise him to hear that he went the way Danya described him.
Trevor Duncan. He wasn't a part of Roland's usual circle of activists, but he was no less of one in Roland's eyes. He wished they had the opportunity to hang out more; they had a lot of fun ridiculing reality TV that one time.
Those were the three he recognized. Other than them, he just concentrated on memorizing the repeat killers. Not that he could really connect faces to those names. He stretched and pulled his bag to his shoulder, acting like he just woke up as the announcement wrapped up.
Don't pull a Codreanu? Roland grimaced at that joke, wishing violent anal prolapse on their tormentor. Despite the fact that they weren't quite in a danger zone, Bridget seemed to be taking that advice and splitting anyway. Roland cast a worried glance at Dutchy, then followed her.
((Roland Hayes continued in The Long Road Home))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Solitair. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
-
MurderWeasel
- Posts: 2566
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
After a while, things got moving again. Dutchy seemed busy being a fucking mess, so hey, no need to worry about him spilling the beans, right? Bridget came back, short most of her hair. 'cause, you know, this was the best time to remake your look. Well, okay, hard to fault her completely, since it wasn't like Kimberly had entirely stopped caring about her appearance either, but at least she had reasons, at least she was cutting an intentionally menacing figure.
But hey, they were moving, and about time. They'd been slow these past few days, way too slow for Kimberly's taste. She was not a patient person. It wasn't that she couldn't wait; she simply didn't like to. Kris was still out there. She hadn't killed for a day, but that meant exactly jack shit, given the size of the island. Maybe she'd just taken a rest.
And what if that wasn't the case? What if Kris had turned over a new leaf, decided to atone? Well...
Well, that meant it'd be easier to fuck up her day. That simple. Kimberly wasn't out to prove some sort of philosophical point about good triumphing over evil or some shit like that. She wasn't trying to protect anyone from Kris. Hell, if that'd been her goal she'd have been seeking Reiko to stop her, rather than hoping to ally with the girl. No, her feelings were far simpler than that. It was a primal desire for revenge. It was a petty, stupid, irrational need to hurt someone who had hurt her. Anywhere else, she'd have quashed it down. Here, though? Here they were all going to die. Didn't matter what Sarah and Dutchy thought. And if Kimberly was gonna die, she was damn sure gonna spend her last days doing whatever the hell she wanted, not tilting at windmills.
Yeah, fuck dying alone. Fuck playing nice. Fuck civilization.
Kimberly packed her stuff and followed the others. Towards whatever came next.
Towards Kris, she hoped.
((Kimberly Nguyen continued in The Long Road Home))
((Apologies for breaking post order, but I have no clue how available I'll be tomorrow and Saturday, and Kimberly's got better thing to do than explode in a DZ))
But hey, they were moving, and about time. They'd been slow these past few days, way too slow for Kimberly's taste. She was not a patient person. It wasn't that she couldn't wait; she simply didn't like to. Kris was still out there. She hadn't killed for a day, but that meant exactly jack shit, given the size of the island. Maybe she'd just taken a rest.
And what if that wasn't the case? What if Kris had turned over a new leaf, decided to atone? Well...
Well, that meant it'd be easier to fuck up her day. That simple. Kimberly wasn't out to prove some sort of philosophical point about good triumphing over evil or some shit like that. She wasn't trying to protect anyone from Kris. Hell, if that'd been her goal she'd have been seeking Reiko to stop her, rather than hoping to ally with the girl. No, her feelings were far simpler than that. It was a primal desire for revenge. It was a petty, stupid, irrational need to hurt someone who had hurt her. Anywhere else, she'd have quashed it down. Here, though? Here they were all going to die. Didn't matter what Sarah and Dutchy thought. And if Kimberly was gonna die, she was damn sure gonna spend her last days doing whatever the hell she wanted, not tilting at windmills.
Yeah, fuck dying alone. Fuck playing nice. Fuck civilization.
Kimberly packed her stuff and followed the others. Towards whatever came next.
Towards Kris, she hoped.
((Kimberly Nguyen continued in The Long Road Home))
((Apologies for breaking post order, but I have no clue how available I'll be tomorrow and Saturday, and Kimberly's got better thing to do than explode in a DZ))
Everyone seemed to have come to the same decision to leave, and were doing so quietly. The announcements seemed to have impacted everyone, but most of all Dutchy. He didn't seem to want to get up, and as Bridget picked up her things and started to move off she found herself crouching by the boy. She placed a hand on his shoulder and shook it gently, tearing up a little when she realised he definitely wasn't asleep.
She quietly tried to encourage him. "Hey, Dutchy." Losing balance, she slumped onto her knees. She nudged his shoulder again, smiling weakly. "Come on, we're moving." He finally began to respond, lifting his head to look at her and beginning to sit up.
His eyes were red and he looked like a complete mess, worse even than the days before. It shocked her slightly, she hated seeing her friend like this. It must have been exactly how everyone kept seeing her for the past few days. She hadn't exactly been leading by example, but she knew exactly how he felt. "Dutchy..."
She leant forward to hug him, and met him halfway there. The two tightly held each other for a few minutes. Sarah had made the decision not to let go first, to let Dutchy take the time he needed even if it meant lagging behind the others. When he finally let go they packed their bags and followed after the others.
Hope someone waited...
((Sarah and Dutchy continued in The Long Road Home))
She quietly tried to encourage him. "Hey, Dutchy." Losing balance, she slumped onto her knees. She nudged his shoulder again, smiling weakly. "Come on, we're moving." He finally began to respond, lifting his head to look at her and beginning to sit up.
His eyes were red and he looked like a complete mess, worse even than the days before. It shocked her slightly, she hated seeing her friend like this. It must have been exactly how everyone kept seeing her for the past few days. She hadn't exactly been leading by example, but she knew exactly how he felt. "Dutchy..."
She leant forward to hug him, and met him halfway there. The two tightly held each other for a few minutes. Sarah had made the decision not to let go first, to let Dutchy take the time he needed even if it meant lagging behind the others. When he finally let go they packed their bags and followed after the others.
Hope someone waited...
((Sarah and Dutchy continued in The Long Road Home))
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Gwbiiii.