Log Eighteen

[desig_survivor]

[Heavy NPC content ahoy!  The writing is sort of shaky, uneven, and smudged - he is writing with his left hand, which he doesn't usually do.  If you think that your charrie, or an NPC they work with who may have talked about it, had reason to be at the griffin stables, or who may have seen Rosa carrying him to Wellspring, you're welcome to comment

Comments

[burntorangesky]

I assume you got yourself patched up before making this little announcement?

[desig_survivor]

I did. Guess I forgot to wipe off my hands first, though.

[burntorangesky]

I am very pleased to hear it.

[Pause]

Do take care, Rogue.

[desig_survivor]

I know I can be - reckless at times. But I do try to stay out of trouble. It's just that there's always a choice, and sometimes the one where I get deeply in trouble is better than the one where I just stand by, or walk away.

Thank you, Fred.

[2fighters1isd]

Your arm going to be OK, Lead?

[desig_survivor]

I'll be fine soon enough. But I'm to keep away from the stables for a while and I really can't work much when I can barely use an arm. Maybe I should head out into the Wilderness.

It's a desert in a binary system. Two suns.

[2fighters1isd]

That sounds... horrifically familiar for some reason.

[desig_survivor]

You're telling me.

It'll be cooler at sundown. Probably cold, actually, and Maverick mentioned huge reptillian creatures.

Do you want to come with me?