(no subject)
Out of Milliways: The Scrapyard.
The door swings open on an August day that smells of blood and dust. The blood smell remains after it closes, but it's largely attached to the smaller of a pair of bedraggled figures. Ellen's in her relatively well-repaired suit of black stealth armor, and she's being followed by an odd-eyed dog that has most definitely seen better days. "Oh, good, it worked," Ellen says with visible relief. "Let's see if we can get you something more useful than a stimpak. Did that even work?"
The dog just whines softly and slinks along behind her.
The door swings open on an August day that smells of blood and dust. The blood smell remains after it closes, but it's largely attached to the smaller of a pair of bedraggled figures. Ellen's in her relatively well-repaired suit of black stealth armor, and she's being followed by an odd-eyed dog that has most definitely seen better days. "Oh, good, it worked," Ellen says with visible relief. "Let's see if we can get you something more useful than a stimpak. Did that even work?"
The dog just whines softly and slinks along behind her.