there’s an air about her, irritation mostly because the pathway she’d been needing to use was blocked off. no explanation. just a bunch of local plod blocking the way with their crossed arms and squared shoulders. accepting defeat, she attempts to find another way around when the unmistakable sound of gunshots can be heard in the direction of where she’d just come from. shouting follows, civvies in a state of panic and excitement and her vision begins to blur. fight or flight plays no part, take cover an order programmed into her as she sprints into a nearby alley and ducks behind a large dustbin. adrenaline courses through her, hands shaking as she attempts to regain her train of thought, mind racing. ironically, it’s not the gunshots that spooked her, but the chaotic noise that came after. shouting, screaming - she finds it stressful. a trigger for the overwhelming worry that overtakes her. especially when it's unexpected.
deep breath in, deep breath out, she goes to push herself up and away from the stinking trash when something moves behind her. skittish, she staggers back against the bin, hands instinctively searching for something to grab onto as she tries to see what’s happening. it's a . . . body ? they’re moving. making sounds, actually, and at the sight of blood she races over to them - before even getting a look at their face. “ oh god, hey ! can y' hear me ? are you injured mate ? ” / @rvennt / starter call.