( they're bleeding! oh no. they are dead. )

[nomeals]

 

You or your meme partner has been hurt, but don't worry! This time around it's not that bad. You can still limp your way out of this mess. 

INJURIES. 
1. Sprain/strain. How did you screw up walking? 
2. Broken bones. Simple fractures still hurt. 
3. Cuts. Hopefully one of you has a sewing kit. 
4. Burns. Location, location, location. Let's pray this one isn't on your ass. 
5. Concussion. No, they're most likely not holding up fifteen fingers. 
6. Other. I'm not a doctor. 

HOW'D IT HAPPEN. 
1. Stupidity. You did this to yourself. 
2. Accident. Is an unintentional attack still an attack? 
3. Attack. Don't lie, you deserved it. 
4. Other. It's probably still your own fault. 

WHERE'D IT HAPPEN. 
1. Home. Did you remember to invest in a first aid kit? 
2. School/Work. This should be excellent for getting you out of doing stuff! 
3. Outdoors. Predators like the smell of blood. Clean up asap. 
4. In the water. Hopefully there aren't any sharks! 
5. Other. Like a hospital. That'd be handy.

Comments

[burningdaylight]

I don' doubt it. Jus' wanna make sure it don' get worse. [They could probably afford to hang back here a few days, luck permitting, as they've had a productive supply run. Not having to worry about food for a little while is a load off.]

S'probably gonna swell up a bit overnight, but, well. [It's to be expected.] Jus' take it easy an' we'll see how you feel in the mornin'. [He moves towards his bag after a moment and sifts around, cans clinking.] So. Corn or green beans?

[backpacking]

When've we ever been able to "take it easy?" [ She asks wearily, but doesn't argue... too much. He's right, and they both know the reality of the world they live in, which means she has to at least rest up a little, however much she doesn't wan tto.

After the question, she chuckles mirthlessly, lip quirking up. ]

Corn. [ It's never much of a choice, but that's not something they can really complain about. ] Actually, I'll take the filet, if you've got it. Mashed potatoes and gravy, too.

[burningdaylight]

Think we had a couple a' minutes last week? [He points out with a wry half-smile, digging out a couple of cans. He's a corn kind of guy, himself, and one day soon they'd have to choke down some of their less enjoyable goods. But that they even have a couple things to choose between is something.

Snorting softly, he jerks a hunting knife out of the sheathe at his belt and punches it into the lid.]

Hate to break it to you, ma'am, but we're all outta filet. An' potatoes. Aaaand gravy. But what we have here's the chef's special... [--levering open the lid] ... our finest whole kernel corn in, uh, sugar water, fresh from the can.

[He walks over to hand it to her.]

Bon appetit.

[backpacking]

Oh, sure. [ Ellie snorts, but she grins weakly, watching him as she works. If he were closer, she'd nab a can to open it herself, but by the time she drags her ankle over there, he'll be done. ] A few minutes every couple months. It's basically vacation.

[ Nah, they don't get a lot of time. Not when relaxing (or, more specifically, being off their guard) can get them killed. Still, it's better to be on edge and with somebody else than alone... especially when it means they can afford a minor injury and to sleep when that might also mean certain death otherwise. ]

If it's the chef's special, I think I can deal with it. [ He's trying, and so is she, and that has to count for something. Ellie smiles grimly as she accepts the can, holding it up briefly in the air as a salute to him. ]

Cheers. [ With a can of corn? Why not? She takes what could tentatively be called a 'swig,' then briefly pulls a face before taking another. ]

Compliments to the chef. [ She says between bites, snorting. ]