[centre][hr][hr] [img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjcyLmFjYjg3YS5RMjlzYVc0Z1VtbDJhVzVuZEc5dS4w/quick-pangolin.regular.png[/img] [hr]Mentions:[@c3p-0h][@ZAVAZggg][@Marrok][@Tenma Tendo] Interacting with: Everyone outside the trial rooms still[hr][/centre] The smell of burnt flesh. Someone screaming, several someones? Colin couldn’t tell over the whistling in his ears. Loona was on the floor. Small body twisted up like a ragdoll. She was moving though. Just taken a bit of a tumble was all, it seemed. He couldn’t look at Kiri. Couldn’t look at He had something in his hand, it was the arrow – when had he picked that up? Didn’t matter though, it’d snapped in two. Red soaked through the thin linen of his shirt. A dull ache, cold where damp blood touched the air, nothing more. Should there be more? Leaving the room, one foot in front of the other, out into the glow of the day. Finlay was there, so was the other red, what was his name? Trent. Of course. Another man too, heavily scarred. Brown hair – was it-? No. His hood was red. Slightly shorter. Alive. "[color=929292]We’re short one, the new one.[/color]" Colin didn’t need to hear the disappointment in Finlay’s voice. It was implicit. They’d failed. Kiri had Food was mentioned. One hand on the wall, rock loamy beneath fingers that he couldn’t be sure were his. Darkness wrapped tight around his field of view. Bent over, retching. He hadn’t eaten today. Nothing to eject but yellow bile. His throat should’ve been burning. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Straightened, blinked through watery eyes. Someone, Zeke, handed him a piece of fabric. Yellow. What-? It hung limply from the hand with the arrow. He let the splintered piece of wood hit the floor. Fingers retracted dully around the fabric. Left a smudge of red. Was that his? The leech walked past. Muscles tensed instinctively, but just as quickly he was gone. Then Kiri. Kiri who’s sword had His arm itched. Dull nails scraped across rubbery scar tissue. He could still smell it. Still smell- Not looking at the others (had people left?), his legs carried him to the door, still hanging loosely open. Out of the corner of his eye, a flame crackled. The door swang shut. Wood shuddered and quaked with the force. [color=8dc73f]“Fucking stinks.”[/color] he heard himself say. Got as far away from the door as he could. [color=8dc73f]“Going…”[/color] he didn’t know where he was going. [i]Away[/i]. He screwed up his eyes. Shook his head. It didn’t help. Still felt foggy and numb and like he was shouting up a well. Fuck. He hated this. Would rather just be scared. Or mad. Or… or… anything. [color=8dc73f]“Going bed.” [/color] He walked, only vaguely aware of the direction he was headed. [hr][hr]