Spirit of the Woods

Shelter

Shelter

Chernobog

Firewatch slowly traveled through the empty streets of Chernobog, carefully taking in her surroundings. Not only were the streets empty, but the buildings were also in ruins, with large crystals growing out of them, courtesy of the catastrophe. She looked at the nearby storefronts. She could use the extra supplies, even the smallest amount would help.

Firewatch entered a small convenience store through its destroyed entrance. The shelves inside were scattered about, their contents looted and scattered across the floor, crushed under the feet of looters and the desperate. She knelt down and grabbed a can of peaches. Unopened. Tossing it into her bag, she scanned for more things of interest. She sighed as she realized the entirety of the store was looted to the last bit. Without warning, she could hear voices quarreling with each other, coming down the street. Ducking behind a shelf, she spied a duo walking past the store.

"Do you have anything to eat? I only had a piece of beef jerky all day." one of them complained.

The other man slapped the man's head, "And that piece is all you're getting. Come on, we gotta keep searching."

"How about that man down at the warehouses? He is always giving out stuff. Maybe we can take his shit."

"Are you crazy! With what? The sticks in our hands? Have you seen the sword at his hip? And I rather not get my ass handed to me by all the surrounding people. Let's go. We might find something a little farther down." The two finally walked past her as she processed their conversation. Maybe this good samaritan could help her. Stepping out of the store, she made her way to the warehouse district only a couple of blocks away. Right at the entrance of it, she could see what seemed to be a small tent city. Seeing no hostile figures inside, Firewatch hid her crossbow under her cloak in order not to spook anyone. As she walked inside, the surrounding people only glanced at her before continuing what they were doing. Firewatch quietly observed the people as they went on with their lives. The families and loners here were trying to live a semblance of their past lives with whatever they had on hand. Small stalls were set up in order to sell junk and bits of food. They even set up a small tent up in order to act like a school. As she stepped up to one of the warehouse, she heard a commotion inside.

"Stay with me, baby!!" Firewatch slowly cracked the door open and peered through. A man and woman dragged an unconscious girl onto a table. From what she could see, there was a bolt impeded in the child's shoulder. Firewatch silently entered the room as a man donning a familiar blue face mask ran to the table. "Help us!"

"Hold her down! I need to pull the arrow out." The masked man donned a pair of gloves.

"Didn't Rhode Island teach you in combat aid?" Firewatch finally spoke up, walking towards the table.

The man looked at her. "Firewatch? How are you here?"

"I have the same question for you, but let me help you first." Firewatch pulled her kukri from its sheath. The girl's parents were about to intervene until the man held out her hand. "You should know better. Arrows like these cannot be pulled out normally." She cut off the shaft of the arrow and re-sheathed the blade. "The arrowheads are normally barbed and tearing them out willy-nilly will cause even more damage. Pass me a lighter, scalpel, pliers, and gloves."

"What are you going to do?" the father asked as people handed Firewatch what was needed.

She pulled a stick of morphine on the table, donned the gloves, and lit the lighter underneath her tool. "I'm going to make some clearance around the arrow to avoid any damage when I take it out. Don't worry, she'll be fine. The arrow didn't strike anywhere important." As the scalpel glowed a bit red, she took the morphine and stabbed it into the girl's arm. Injecting the liquid, she began cutting away at the skin around the wound. The girl shifted under her hands as Firewatch removed the last of the needed clearance. Placing her scalpel down, she held the pliers in her hand and entered the wound with it. Grasping the arrowhead hard, she slowly pulled it out before dropping the head onto a tray. "You can probably do the rest. Just stitch her up and she'll be fine," she turned to the parents, "How did this even happen?"