Feb. 3rd, 2011

reckless_eagle: (That one stung)
[Loud, panicked whinnying is heard as the communicator turns on. At first, all that can be seen is a rough, earthen floor, but then slim, bloody fingers turn it over carefully.]

[Poland's a bit of a mess. There's dirt, gravel, and blood in his hair, and he's bleeding from his neck enough to make him pale and somewhat disoriented.]

Guys...? [He pauses. It's apparently pretty hard to talk with a neck wound.] ...Masked man. Like. Be careful.

[He trails off, staring into the middle distance for a few moments, evidently just spacing out.]

...Need help with the horses. They won't calm down.

[Miserably:] Liet's gonna worry.

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reckless_eagle

December 2011

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