Frozen~ (Supa Strikas)

Crash bang and crumble

Sorry I haven't updated, got problems and life and stuff, so yeah. In the spirit of COVID-19 I thought why not try? 

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Five minutes. That's all it took to tip the scale into natures hands. The bus, cold as it was already, slowly trotted along the road, Klaus making sure he was extra careful; the roads were full of ice, and it was beginning to snow heavily, making his job extra difficult. The only reason he didn't stop is due to the footballers in the back - he thought of how cold they all were; how quickly cold could kill as well stood strong in the back of his mind, making him shudder. 

A bunny - a baby, Klaus thinks quickly to himself - jumps out onto the road, lifting it's muzzle to sniff the crisp air. It was a gorgeous white, shining compared to the muddy and damp snow. It was like he was back in Germany for one of it's harsh winters, where life would surprise you like this. 

Oh, how it did surprise him. 

Without realizing, Klaus noticed too late how close that Bunny was, and he tried desperately to swerve away to not kill it. The coach jolted as it's front wheels hit the newly laid snow, off the hard grip of the road. A hiss of air as one of the tires burst caught Klaus attention, before the full force of what he had just done hit him full force. Literally. 

Something hard hit his head through the windscreen, and he was out before he knew it, helpless to stop the movement of the vehicle. 

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Dancing Rasta groaned as he came around, using his right hand to bring up to his aching face, pinching the bridge of his nose to try and stop the throb of pain coursing through his skull. When he brought his hand away, he saw the blood - a deep red, sticking to his skin and dripping down from his fingers. With blurry vision, he finally looked away from himself towards the rest of the bus. 

The sides were bent in, clearly a show-tell sign that they clearly rolled quite a few times before coming to a dead halt. They were upright now, but had smashed into a few trees, the long limbs sticking through the cracked windows, coming  to rest through where he was just sat and over towards where Tiger was supposedly.

Using his left hand, which was quickly bruising, he patted down the blankets off to his side, in hopes he'll find Tiger, Shakes or El Matador. 

Something firm brushed against his fingers as he searched, eager now, he gently took the blankets away from the object to find it was Shake's hand, warm with swelling and bent in a direction that definitely wasn't normal. "Shakes-man" Rasta didn't want to touch the arm anymore, in fear of harming the footballer. "C'mon, wake up!" 

A small whimper, and a familiar face popped up from behind Shake's body. El Matador groaned as he opened his eyes to the light, quickly shutting them again. "Ugh." He stuck out his tongue in frustration and pain. "Captain, what happened?" 

"We crashed I think." He supplied quietly, awfully aware of the cut on his friends head, and the clear signs of a concussion. "Shake's is next to you, be careful, I think he broke his hand." 

The Spanish man sighed, but slowly again opened his eyes to look at the two of them. "Where's Tiger?" He asked, quirking a pain-filled brow at his leader. "He was right here." 

Rasta was then aware of the hole in the back of the coach, where the end wind-screen would be normally, and the cool draft that was making his head feel a tad bit better. Gingerly, he got up to his knees, watched the broken glass, and peered outside. There, making a dent in the snow, deathly still, was a lump of red from the hair, black from the clothing, and white as snow clumped around it. A lump of his own started in his throat at the blood-tinted snow. "Tiger.." He whispered.