Kota's Perspective.
200, 202, 204, 206, 208, 210 . . . 212. The numbers keep coming. They appear in my mind one by one on a never ending track. I have been watching over Luke ever since North went home to shower, eat, and rest a few hours ago just after Luke woke up. When I first walked into the room Luke was asleep once more, so I took it upon myself to take a count of all the injuries marking his pale skin.
The most obvious would be the gunshot wound on his right shoulder all wrapped up in tightly done bandages. Then I moved on to his face. A shallow cut above his left eyebrow. A dark colored bruise rests on his jaw a few inches away from his chin. Near that bruise his lip had cracked with dried blood just below it. With his arms laying on top of the blanket I take my time to look them over. Luke's arms usually have a scratch or two from the bark of the trees he climbs, but with all the dark shapes covering them now it seems like one of the trees decided to give him a good beating with their sap covered limbs. Luke had 212 bruises on both of his arms about two hours ago and temporarily bored with my book, I counted them again.
14, 16, 18, 24, 36, 48, 56, 110. 110 bruises litter Luke's left arm. 26, 34, 68, 72, 84, 96, 104, 106, 114, 148. 148 bruises litter Luke's right arm. 148 plus 110 equals 258. That is 46 more bruises Luke has gained over the course of two hours where he had laid asleep during that time. Some things are not adding up.
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My Wolves Can't Help Me Now
FanfictionThis is a Ghost Bird Fanfiction by C.L. Stone. All recognizable characters have come from that author. Sang Sorensen is a green eye, blonde haired beauty stuck with a family that she did not choose. All that they share is the blood that runs throug...
