The Horrors Of The Bunker

How Do We Meet Again? EP. 7

Fang's cold, reptilian eyes stared at him as he slowly dug his nails into his skin and slowly chewed his bottom lip until his mouth was nearly full of blood; she sat down beside him, restrained both his arms from hurting himself, and pulled him into her chest.

She held him like he was a hatchling; she did not understand humans or his traumas. All she knew was her friend, and he was in pain, and that was all she needed to know was enough for her to be there for him.

She was a great warrior of her people she was known as Fang of The White Scales Tribe, butchering countless Bandits and Undead alike. She even got the blessing from her chief.

Known as The Immortality White Scales Chief, She followed her dreams of battle and conquest, but something changed when she met him. Something about him piqued her interest, but not even she was fully sure what it was.

She remembered The Bandit King Wars that she fought in when The bandit clans started to raid small swamp villages across The Bleeding Shallow due to The King Bandit rising to power making weaker or already conquered clans try their best to gain his favor by raiding weak villages, She watched The Soldier begin to raise a small army of villagers without the permission or blessing of The Caretaker.

He taught the locals guerrilla warfare and terror tactics to break the morale of the Bandit leaders. Not only that, he cut the throats of three of the Bandit leaders himself In single-handed combat to break their morale more.

With her help, of course, something about it made him unbelievably happy; he never said it out loud, but he felt absolute Joy as he made Frightened locals into hardened soldiers willing to die protecting their homes and families. But when the battle was finally over, he became the same broken scared little boy he always had been, doing what he had been taught for most of his life to be a soldier.

She sympathized with him on a deeply personal level because she was the same she was a warrior of her tribe nothing less nothing more that's all she was taught since she was hatched, not even the concept of romantic love or motherhood was given to her because she hatched a Warrior so she was destined to die as one.

She killed many bloodthirsty humans and even dishonored Crocs to break her clan laws, not to mention everything in between, but she didn't do it because it was fun. It was because it was her duty; most of her kind never questioned this; they never once questioned what their place in the universe was.

But she did, and so did he. They just never spoke about it; she noticed his face slowly relax, and his death grip loosened; she held him until she heard the young woman sobbing to herself in her sleep.

She gently laid him down, walked over to her, and just held her hand as she slept; she could feel her hand tightly as the young woman tried to fight her past demons; she watched over the young woman.

Crocs never mourned over their dead; they ate them not because of carnival desire but simply because their strength was not their own but the tribes, and it was the highest honor for a warrior.

But she did not care for her people's Traditions at that moment, she wanted to comfort her friends even if she didn't understand their feelings or their more complicated issues like mourning.