As Brucey walked to the room he fumbled with the lock connecting the two ends of the chains wrapped several-fold around his torso and the steamer trunk held firm together by said chains to his back. When entering the room he hunched forward and rotated his upper-body and slowly made his way through the doorway, as to avoid clipping the door with his arms and opening almost-sealed wounds. Brucey sat cross-legged at the foot of the final unoccupied bed and let the chains drop gently so as not make too much noise.

*clink* *clink* *clink* *THUMP* “darn…” Brucey whispered as the lock he had forgotten about hits the ground rather hard. He craned his neck to look at the injured teammate, but he seemed unaffected by it, Bruce shrugged and brought the steamer trunk that he was holding in both hands from behind his back and around to the front and set it down gently. He opened the container to bring out a crudely-made leather vest and a pair of Crudely-weaved pants. Though Bruce had made all of his own clothes, he couldn’t boast about his ability in doing so, however, and Brucey knew this too well… He also took out a large knife and a piece of wood roughly the size of Bruce’s fist. He dropped the clothes in his left hand and put down the knife and wood in his right and gently closed the trunk. He slid the trunk to the side of the bed and grabbed the clothes while he stood up and went to the bathroom to change and wash.