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.
