#lastdrop01

Every time her eyes would close for sleep, she’d hear it again. The pop of gunfire and the sounds of struggle beyond the safety of their own camp; she’d been told to rest, save her strength, and be prepared to help anyone who made it back -- anyone who survived -- and yet her heart would pound so loudly in her ears as to drown out the warnings of others.

It took her a few tries to steel herself enough to pull from her bed and into her beat-up shoes and sneak out in the cover of the darkness, a sweater pulled tight across her to protect her from the elements, but never stopped in her headstrong motion forward. People needed help, and she could hear them just beyond the pines and she wanted so desperately to be out there, to help, and to be of use.

River wasn’t made for stealth, nor was she made for combat, so each step through the downpour was both loud and unpracticed, kicking rocks and snapping twigs with each step that didn’t land in a puddle; she’d make it to the wall at any point now and then try to find her way through... or over? How do people sneak out, she didn’t even know.

A sound behind her brought her to whip around; she knew it likely wasn’t an undead, but it was only then that she realized she was unarmed other than a small medical kit she’d managed to fashion out of leftover supplies they had on hand, “Wh-Who is it?”