Alone, Alone; Allein, Allein [Ludwig/Day 1]
Jul 19, 2011 12:49:06 GMT -5
Post by A Toa's Friend (atoafriend) on Jul 19, 2011 12:49:06 GMT -5
Slap! Ludwig winced as he slapped a bug on his arm with his remaining hand. I must have been delirious to run head-on for this place, he thought, looking around at the hot, sticky, bug-infested marsh that he had landed in (literally) after taking off from the Bloodbath.
He found a clump of grass larger than the rest and sat down by it. His clothes were already soaked anyways, so he didn't care that the water lapped up on his legs and soaking his pants. For a few minutes he let himself rest, not even moving to slap the bugs off of him (although it did occur to him that they could be dangerous); right now he let himself feel relief that he had taken the first aid station, otherwise his injuries would be far worse off.
Reminded of the incident, Ludwig looked down at the stump where his left hand used to be, wrapped up in his shirt and strapped in place with his belt. He found it slightly intriguing that the sight didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. Perhaps I have seen worse…or will see worse, he thought, wiping the sweat and blood out of his eyes.
Deciding that he had rested enough, he stood up to survey his surroundings. In the distance he could see another team of tributes recuperating; other than that there were no signs of his fellow allies. For a moment he decided to press on, but a wave of heat hit him like a hammer and he remembered just how thirsty all that running, fighting, bleeding, and walking had made him.
Taking his eyes away from the distance, Ludwig returned to the large clump of grass he had sat down at before. Pushing the clumps aside, he saw that there was a small patch of dry land sticking up from the water: the perfect place to build a small fire. Tightening his grip on his falchion, Ludwig proceeded to cut some of the shrubbery, which proved harder than he realized with just one hand. After pausing for a moment, he loosened the belt around his left forearm enough to tie the handle of the falchion down so the blade stuck out where his hand used to be, like some makeshift Captain Hook. Well, I suppose this works.
With the weapon-turned-appendage in place, he grabbed clumps of grass and cut them down with the falchion, ignoring the bursts of pain. After another hour working in the sweltering heat, he finally had a fire going when he realized he didn’t have anything to put the water in to boil. For the first time in a while, he swore under his breath. Well, he told himself, at least the bugs will stay away now. He thought about using his hat for a moment, but wouldn’t the fire just destroy the hat as well?
Too tired to think about anything else, Ludwig decided it was probably better to wait it out until the next day until he could find the rest of his team. They probably had something to boil water in.
He found a clump of grass larger than the rest and sat down by it. His clothes were already soaked anyways, so he didn't care that the water lapped up on his legs and soaking his pants. For a few minutes he let himself rest, not even moving to slap the bugs off of him (although it did occur to him that they could be dangerous); right now he let himself feel relief that he had taken the first aid station, otherwise his injuries would be far worse off.
Reminded of the incident, Ludwig looked down at the stump where his left hand used to be, wrapped up in his shirt and strapped in place with his belt. He found it slightly intriguing that the sight didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. Perhaps I have seen worse…or will see worse, he thought, wiping the sweat and blood out of his eyes.
Deciding that he had rested enough, he stood up to survey his surroundings. In the distance he could see another team of tributes recuperating; other than that there were no signs of his fellow allies. For a moment he decided to press on, but a wave of heat hit him like a hammer and he remembered just how thirsty all that running, fighting, bleeding, and walking had made him.
Taking his eyes away from the distance, Ludwig returned to the large clump of grass he had sat down at before. Pushing the clumps aside, he saw that there was a small patch of dry land sticking up from the water: the perfect place to build a small fire. Tightening his grip on his falchion, Ludwig proceeded to cut some of the shrubbery, which proved harder than he realized with just one hand. After pausing for a moment, he loosened the belt around his left forearm enough to tie the handle of the falchion down so the blade stuck out where his hand used to be, like some makeshift Captain Hook. Well, I suppose this works.
With the weapon-turned-appendage in place, he grabbed clumps of grass and cut them down with the falchion, ignoring the bursts of pain. After another hour working in the sweltering heat, he finally had a fire going when he realized he didn’t have anything to put the water in to boil. For the first time in a while, he swore under his breath. Well, he told himself, at least the bugs will stay away now. He thought about using his hat for a moment, but wouldn’t the fire just destroy the hat as well?
Too tired to think about anything else, Ludwig decided it was probably better to wait it out until the next day until he could find the rest of his team. They probably had something to boil water in.