Trust is Fickle || Mac & Finan
The fight had hit a lull. It wasn’t over at all, but the camper’s side was winning now thank the gods. Finan had been fighting for hours on end, not taking a break no matter his injuries. His breath was getting heavy, though, and his feet hit the ground with a thud each time. He’d lost blood, he was dehydrated, and he was incredibly hungry. Still, he wasn’t going to stop fighting until he collapsed or got close to it. The next monster did that.
It knocked him on his ass, and he just barely killed it with throwing knives. He got up and rushed to the nearest barracks, which had all been mostly protected now to give the non-fighters a place to be. “Sit out for a bit, man,” one of his friends how was guarding the barracks said to him with a slap on the back. Finan gave a laughed and a joking salute to him before slumping underneath a tree. He didn’t think he could move another muscle. At least not for fifteen minutes.