Snippet #2655669

Rooke looked up at Addy when she started to examine him. He started to feel the shame and embarrassment rolling off of him in waves. He bit his lip and sucked in loudly through his nose when she touched his wing. He even winced away a little bit from Addy's touch. "Yes, it hurts there," He mumbles bitterly, looking up at her with his good eye. He clenched his jaw, and looked at Tyson when he heard him yelling his name. "Tyson?!" He yelled, fear rippling through him. By now Rooke was starting to ignore is injuries, so he rushed over to Tyson. "Tyson!? Ty, it's okay!" The sparrow quickly kneeled down next to Tysons head. His eyes showed his fear as he hesitantly started to brush away dry crusted blood on Tysons face. "Tyson, we're all here, me and Puki are okay," He said in a hushed voice, trying to keep his panic out of his voice. Glancing up at Alek Rooke started to understand why Tyson was freaking out. "Alek, don't hold him down?" He suggested. "Wrap a bandage or something around him, I don't know, but he seams to be freaking out, I think it's because you're holding him down?"

Rookes voice got smaller and smaller as he tired to explain his reasoning for ordering Alek around. At the end of his sentence he just stopped and pursed his lips. "I don't know," He mumbled again, looking back down to Ty, realizing that he was still subconsciously brushing dirt and stuff off Tysons face. He looked down at the bullet hole, and clenched his jaw. His nose wrinkled as anger started to boil inside him, eating away as his chest and stomach. Shuffling a good distance away he watched Alek holding onto Tyson. 'This is all my fault... God I'm such an idiot. Tysons hurt because I thought I could be tough and help out. I'm just a weak idiot who can't pay attention while flying, or use some common sense...' Rooke looked down at his shoulder as he scolded himself inwardly. After a moment Rooke grabbed onto a small bone in his shoulder, and started to pull it out. The bone has stopped most of the bleeding, but now it poured out, staining his shirt impossibly more. He attempted to keep the ball of his palm on it while pulling out the other bones. He got about what he figured was 5 out before he had to stop, his entire hand covering a good chunk of the wound. The sparrow glared up, anger continuing to fuel him. He managed to dig into his shoulder and rip out 2 more, but that soon became too painful. He ended up falling while sitting down, passed out from pain and blood loss.