Snippet #2041197

Timothy sat silently, he had been tended to and bandaged up with the administration of a little pain killers before being left to recover on his own. In the end there wasn't any serious injuries that couldn't be tended to by time. Their attentions were better used elsewhere, in fact Timothy insisted it would be so. He knew the basics, keep the bandages and wound clean, avoid exercise and anything that could reopen the injuries. He still didn't feel well enough to remove himself from the infirmary, he could hardly summon the ability to stand. That was more mental then physical, he knew he could stand and support himself but his every muscle felt lethargic. So it was he sat on a white bed, watching the nurses and doctors attend to the others particularly around the critically wounded Jones. He didn't feel particularly odd, his torso wrapped in white strips of fabric. He sat and mulled over whatever happened but it was still a mass of chaos in his mind. It happened so fast and violently all that kept him alive was instinct. It wasn't good enough he reminding himself, looking up towards Jones'. Hands clasped before him weakly. He watched as Anna arrived, making such a fuss about seeing him, her voice filled with concern.

Timothy's head dropped and he let a growl escape from his lips. He could have done better, he should have done better. There was no true regret, only anger. Towards himself, towards the creatures that assaulted them. He wanted to do something but he was incapable, in such a state he was in. His already frowning features set into a snarl, fighting his exhausted body. Pushing himself to a stand, he couldn't just sit there doing nothing. Even though he had nothing to do, the others had already reported back and from then on the group would probably be disbanded. If there were no injuries they would merely return to their schooling or however they filled their time. Of course in this case that couldn't happen. So instead the young mans attention was caught by the quiet coming from Jones direction. He stood and watched the talk, too far away to hear anything but it was obvious that they were close. He had been dangerously wounded when Timothy took the chance to deliver some first aid. It had been several hours and long trip and his condition could only have worsened. Arden watched the victim hand the girl something, a book? He couldn't really tell but he couldn't help but feel it was a sign that there wasn't time left.

With that thought, Timothy couldn't cope with his anger. Snatching his sword and wincing a little at the sudden movement, he stormed from the hospital ward. Most nurses and doctors were busy elsewhere and it was known that he was well enough to leave. Outside the room he allowed himself to vent the rage. A roar ripped from his chest, a hand ramming a nearby wall. With that singed explosion he felt slightly calmer. Luckily the corridor was empty so his action went unnoticed except by another who had just left the room. Timothy turned to notice Anna, an observer to his outburst. He took a breath to calm himself more before moving over towards her. Hopefully she wouldn't be too disturbed. They didn't know each other, although he did at least know who she was.
"Sorry about that." He voice still carried an edge but his words were sincere. "I'm sorry about Jones too, that I couldn't do more for him." He gave a pause before continuing. "Were you close? What was that he gave you?" It was simple curiosity, what his team mate's last actions were. Perhaps something worthwhile, a kind of redemption.