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Tommy
Tommy had been separated from Dawson as soon as they had set foot in the camp. And although he hadn't know the other Englishman for more than a night, Tommy had become saddened by the loss of company. It was to be another night of restless sleep.
He was surprised they had been put together at first anyway. Everyone knew it was dangerous to force the enemy together. But Tommy had noticed the lack of common sense that the soldiers that guarded them had. Not only did they tie fences and poles with rope, but they left their keys at their posts constantly, whether that be guarded or not.
From where he was dumped, he could see the keys, hanging in plain sight. He was confined to another ditch, this time blocked at the top by a small fence. He had supposed it had been as a result of the Frenchmen that had escaped two days prior. Ultimately, they had been shot.
The keys were a little over half a meter from his place, given that he had been placed near the soldiers posts, where they held prisoners in solitude. If he stretched his arm, his finger tips could graze its cold metal.
As he attempted to sleep, the soft glimmer of silver distracted his mind. Tommy eyed it bitterly. The guard beside the key slept, uncaring. Rigidly, he lifted the weighted ball, bringing it up to lean between the fence, that started at his chest, and his shoulder. Reaching his arm out slowly, his hands grappled against dry soil. Tommy with held a grunt as he stretched further, the darkness that surrounded him making it harder for him to search in the right direction.
He flinched. The jangling of metal rung through his ears, making him pause as he glanced through the fence to the guard that moved over in his chair, settling with a groan. With a sigh, he stretched once more, but his shoulder was too broad to fit between the slim gaps between wooden posts. He forced his arm forward, taking no noice as a loud crunch was heard, a sharp pain reaching down his arm, after grasping his calloused hands around icy metal.
Tommy paused a moment, letting his arm adjust to the burning pain that settled in the top, right area of his body. It was no different to when he would break and dislocate bones when he was younger. A familiar numb pain shifted in his shoulder- it was clearly dislocated.
Rolling to the side, Tommy allowed the weight to tumble to the ground, pulling his injured arm out and down, taking the keys with it. He slid down, sitting his back against the curving, mound of mud. He felt his eyes flutter to a close, his heaving chest slowing.
Tommy didn't awake until heavy shouts drifted into the cage-like structure that he was held in. The keys were still openly in his hand and the chains still lodged firmly onto his arms. His shoulder was also still dislocated.
