The camp was lacking in usable medical technology. Power was being distributed less to other camps and settlements than it was to Bear outposts and barracks. It infuriated Alexander, because this meant he couldn’t perform a proper check-up on his recently pregnant patient like he’d hoped.

“I’m really sorry, ma’am,” he’d explained. “We’re not getting enough power.”

The woman had merely sighed with an extremely solemn look on her face and nodded, before uttering a thank you and shuffling out of the exit.

After a short break for something small to eat, it was time for him to check again on Colin. He was promptly taken aback to find that the cot Colin had been resting on was now empty. It was almost impossible -- not only should Alexander have [i]heard[/i] him leave, it should have been extremely difficult or painful for Colin to stand.

“Alanna?”

He turned and peeked around the doorway, looking out into the hallway. “Alanna? Have you seen Colin?”

The brunette nurse looked at him with confusion, “He said you let him go. He was completely fine.”

[i]Oh, no.[/i]

[hr]
[@CLIW]

As the woman behind her called after her, proposing a trade, Fren skidded to a stop, but didn’t turn around. The dog had already frightened her -- she never liked animals, and especially not ones that were trying to [i]attack[/i] her, no matter how small, weak, or ugly-looking. A glass-headed spear was clutched tightly in her right hand while the other now rested in her bag. If the woman were to attack her, Fren could most definitely take care of herself. In fact, with the right planning, she could even manage to swipe [i]more[/i] from the young, naive woman...but she was in a [i]hurry.[/i] Finally, she spun around, eyes scanning the area for separate movement. The route which her accomplices had taken was unknown to her, always was, but that didn’t mean they weren’t sticking close. She was still equivalent to a slave, after all.

“Alright, girl,” Fren called back, keeping her distance. Her dialect, which was some bizzare, unheard of mix between pre-war Scottish and Jamaican, was more pronounced now that her voice was risen. She lifted the hand that was gripping the spear and waved it slightly at the young woman. “I’m gonna walk back. You stay right where you are, and be quick about the exchange, now. I’m still in a rush. I’ve got things to take care of. And I ain’t afraid to stab the mutt if I gotta.”

[i]Oh, Fren,[/i] she said to herself, [i]you’re old enough to know better than this.[/i]