"Gah! I lose again!" 02 cried out in annoyance. He had just lost to 41 in yet another game of chess. On their limited down time, mostly they played strategy games or rested for their next mission. 15 glanced up from his book, giving his teammates a quizzical look over his reading glasses. 56 sat near the window of the safehouse, gazing blankly into space. 41 simply smirked, 02 was probably the easiest opponent to read, especially when he thought out his moves out loud.
A knock on the door put all of them on guard, each pulling a hidden weapon. 02 threw open the door, ready to fill the intruder's head with lead, but…
Instead of an intruder, a cloaked figure stood there, shivering from the cold. All four stared at the stranger, then each other, then back to the stranger. It seemed strangely lopsided, the glints of its eyes dull. Without warning, the figure collapsed right into 56's arms, knocking him down.
"Oi! Uh, are you ok… holy ra!" the figure rolled off, leaving bloody splashes on 56's light clothes. Instantly the others assisted carrying the prone figure inside, retrieving bandages, water, and cloth for cleaning.
Two hours later, the figure lay in 13's empty bunk, sleeping soundly in oversized sweats. The four remaining ice hawks watched the figure sleep, amazed that it had survived with such blood loss. From what 02 had said, the stranger had been shot with both bullets and arrows, most of which hadn't closed. Add that to a couple of broken bones and frostbite on the fingers and toes, this person was lucky to still be alive, especially in the middle of winter. 02 and 41 had administered first aid to the stranger, while 15 gathered supplies. 56 had vanished from view, but no one minded, he did that when something was bugging him.
The thing was that only 02 and 41 knew this person's identity; an enemy soldier, most likely a deserter that crossed the boundary in broad daylight. Te figure's insanely long brown hair was matted with blood, forest pieces and grime, its thin frame barely covered by muscle.
"02, is this one related to you? Looks girly enough." 15 sneered, ducking a punch to the head. 02 glared at him.
"Better to have long hair then a mini pony." He scoffed back "Maybe I should lop it off." He held up his pair of scrap booking scissors, grinning maniacally. 15 knew his comrade was fond of his long hair, but knew not to push the scissors wielding maniac more. It was fun to tease him about it though. 41 sighed, shaking his head and going back to his book 'How do live with a bunch of gun wielding idiots'.
The redhead had somehow managed to be appointed for keeping an eye on the prisoner, and the doctor. She knew the doctor would do anything to treat the kid, and was willing to assist in any way.
"Any improvements today?" she asked, walking up to the table. The prisoner lay on his stomach, a bunch of lights shining on the matted portion of the back of his skull. The doctor shook his head no.
"It's badly cracked; I doubt I'll be able to glue it back together. He bleeding heavily still, but I'm sucking it out as fast as the machine will go." He indicated the pump and the red tube. "I'm worried. Unless someone knows healing magic by some sort of heavenly chance, he's done for." The girl bit her lip, thinking hard.
"What about the lord's healer?"
"Are you trying to get killed off? The lord doesn't let that one out of his sight!" the doctor cried. He rubbed his temples with frustration. "There's got to be a way, there has to be." He muttered as the girl slipped out into the night. She snuck to the healer's tent, waited till the guards left, and silently entered.
"W…who are you?" a voice asked for the corner. The healer, she noticed, was but a child with silver hair, light blue eyes and the appearance of a cat. She kneeled, smiling sweetly.
"I'm a guard, but I won't hurt you, I promise. Are you the lord's healer?" she asked. The cat-child nodded a large book on remedies in its lap.
"Y…yes. A…are you he…here to t…take me to h…him?" it stuttered, shaking with fright. She crawled closer to get a better look, but the child shrank into the shadows, shivering violently. Through its thin clothing she could see whip marks on its skin, and deep bruises shaped like large human hands on its shoulders and neck.
"No, I'm here to ask a favor. There is a soldier on the brink, only magic can save him now." She said. "Please, help him, please." The child looked up at her, its gray cat ears flicking back and forth.
"…I…I'll try…" it finally whispered, moving the book off its legs. With the girl's help, he managed to stand, wavering on thin limbs. She covered him with her cloak, scooping him into her arms, and departing from the tent.
"Stop right there!" she froze as a soldier strode towards her. "Where arte you headed with that bundle?"
"Laundry sir. My linens are soiled." She replied in a deep voice. The soldier poked the bundle hard with the blunt end of the spear he held, hitting the child in the side.
"Bit hard for linens, don't ya say?" he sneered, leering in her direction. Luckily a voice called the soldier away. "I'm watching you…" he growled, hurrying away. Sighing deeply, she sprinted to the cells, locking the door behind her. Depositing the bundle gently on the ground, she unwrapped the cloak to find the child in pain, holding his side with teary eyes. Obviously a broken rib, she mused.
"Can you move kid?" she asked. He nodded, getting up shakily and following her to the table, which was above his nose. The girl lifted him up, setting the cat/kid on her shoulders. He gasped at the sight.