Running

I ran.

Ran from the blood, the gore.

Ran from the pain, the death.

And the Bloodbath.
I turned around to take my most likely last look at Concordia.

So nice.

A mace in front of her nose.

I run back, full of anger, grabbing a short sword.

And sliced the District Eight clean in half.

I grab a backpack of knives and an axe.

Concordia got a bow and a quiver and we ran.