closed starter for @idontkillorphans
Mike had been out for the count for most of the week. How he was still alive was beyond him. He should have been dead many times over, even before his escape. The world had grown dark with jagged edges. People were bringing the worst out of each other. When he fell into that pit he was sure he was a goner. He was exhausted, injured, starving. But then came this man. The man he was so sure was going to be demise.
He fed and watered him, tended to his fucked up arm. Let him rest. He had been on high alert for so long, but something about this man and his dog felt safe. He had slept for a long time most days, his body catching up on rest he hadn't been able to have for so long. When he awoke that evening it was already dark outside. The dog had snuffled over at the first sign of movement and had approached pushed her head up his hand for attention, he looked up and the man, Sleipnir he had told him, who was sat outside tending to a fire and what smelled like another hot dinner.
Pushing himself up, he gave the dog a little pat on the head before approaching the makeshift firepit.
"Smells good." He gestured as he took a seat, steadying himself with his good arm as he lowered himself onto the ground.