02-27-2018, 05:28 AM
[div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]tw for injuries (particularly to that of a child), thoughts about people dying
The traveling had been exhausting. His feet felt pain with each step, and he couldn't shake the nagging fear he hadn't done enough to prevent his bullet wound from infection. His lips were cracked open with dehydration, and he had eaten most the food on his journey here. Yet, he found himself blocking it all out. He found himself thrilled to get home. There'd be food. Fresh food. Fresh, and food in general, had become a treat in The Badlands. He usually had to dig in dumpsters, and when Kit got captured, he was left with the moldy bread people threw out to the rats.
Only once had Gilbert prepared food, a goose that attacked him and died in result. He had been somewhat confused, but he still had the head as a trophy. The rest of it was cooked over a bonfire, probably a bit burnt, but it tasted far better than peaches covered in garbage. But the mere idea of eating Greer's food again, or even Johannes, the ache in his stomach seemed more powerful than ever. But what if Sheogorath hurt them? His uninjured fingers balled tighter around his baseball bat.
In the snow, the nipping cold was harsher than usual against his freshly bashed up face, though it looked like he hadn't left haphazardly with bleeding or dirty wounds. Gilbert was acquiring new skills, but he always knew the basics thanks to his sister. As he stepped forward, his gentle brown eyes when he caught sight of trees. Snow already was clumped around his tennis shoes, quite cold actually, but he made a dash to it, just as speedy as ever, maybe even more with him having to be on the run constantly again, and his feet were traveling towards where he was confident the porch was.
His home! His home. It wasn't burned to the ground like Sheogorath suggested. He could only bring himself to tear up though, as other thoughts came in. What if he wasn't welcome back? What if Greer and Johannes died? His breath felt heavy, his entire body did really, and he could only hope he would be home in time before The Badlands had any bright ideas.
[align=center]"Greer" "Gilbert"
The traveling had been exhausting. His feet felt pain with each step, and he couldn't shake the nagging fear he hadn't done enough to prevent his bullet wound from infection. His lips were cracked open with dehydration, and he had eaten most the food on his journey here. Yet, he found himself blocking it all out. He found himself thrilled to get home. There'd be food. Fresh food. Fresh, and food in general, had become a treat in The Badlands. He usually had to dig in dumpsters, and when Kit got captured, he was left with the moldy bread people threw out to the rats.
Only once had Gilbert prepared food, a goose that attacked him and died in result. He had been somewhat confused, but he still had the head as a trophy. The rest of it was cooked over a bonfire, probably a bit burnt, but it tasted far better than peaches covered in garbage. But the mere idea of eating Greer's food again, or even Johannes, the ache in his stomach seemed more powerful than ever. But what if Sheogorath hurt them? His uninjured fingers balled tighter around his baseball bat.
In the snow, the nipping cold was harsher than usual against his freshly bashed up face, though it looked like he hadn't left haphazardly with bleeding or dirty wounds. Gilbert was acquiring new skills, but he always knew the basics thanks to his sister. As he stepped forward, his gentle brown eyes when he caught sight of trees. Snow already was clumped around his tennis shoes, quite cold actually, but he made a dash to it, just as speedy as ever, maybe even more with him having to be on the run constantly again, and his feet were traveling towards where he was confident the porch was.
His home! His home. It wasn't burned to the ground like Sheogorath suggested. He could only bring himself to tear up though, as other thoughts came in. What if he wasn't welcome back? What if Greer and Johannes died? His breath felt heavy, his entire body did really, and he could only hope he would be home in time before The Badlands had any bright ideas.
[align=center]"Greer" "Gilbert"