Send “Pain is weakness leaving the body” and I will randomly generate how your muse will find mine
9. with (a) broken rib(s)
@fusxons
Sitting with his back propped against a tree like a piece of timber in the darkness of his woods, Sans clutched his chest. Pain laced its way through his rib cage with every rasping breath pushed into the cold air. He hadn’t checked the extent of the damage, but his shirt had begun to stain an even darker red from the blood leaking from his ribs.
He couldn't stay here. He needed get up. After all, the bastards who’d thought this a fun game were still out there like before, only now they were short a member. Sans knew he had dusted at least one of them and landed blows on the other two, but a wild pack of dogs never acted kindly to the stray that killed one of their own, hah, fucking unprovoked or not.
They’d come for him again, didn’t matter how well he thought he lost them in the cover of night. While Sans was still in these damn woods he always had to be prepared for the possible enemy hiding behind every rock, every tree, every snowbank, up in every branch-
A sound, quiet as it was, made Sans freeze. He didn't move, in fact he stopped breathing altogether as he listened to the night.
There was someone else here. Fuck.
