[Volgin was used to these conditions, having been on worse during the War. For one, the dirt was not soaked with blood.
He found the antiseptic and, wincing as his pant leg made an audible strrrppp as the dried bloody adhesive gave away, he poured it right in, hissing as it bubbled. Reaching for the gauze, he proceeded to dab the wound and clean the blood away. The state of his patella was another matter: The bastard broke it, he could feel the pieces, and no doubt he would be forced to bed-rest at the worst possible time. Staying put would be death, with his former subordinate knowing this place to his disadvantage prowling about. He did not know how many Ocelots were out there, but all of them were threats.
His single eye made a brief survey of the musky room for possible snipers.
Meanwhile, a little red goat, with tiny pointed horns, ambled towards Raikov, taking some of his pant leg in its small mouth.]
Think like a soldier, Ivan! The animals are providing cover!
[Yet, his knee would be best seen by a doctor, unfortunately. Not to mention his remaining eye socket, for best measure (although he still sensed his original eye there, but his lids -- felt nothing). Anger boiled inside of him, as he cleaned his face. That bastard, Ocelot!
The goat's teeth still had Ivan's pant leg, tugging at it as the boot pushed its face away.]
Comments 101
What is this, a farm? We can't do anything in here--Yevgeny--?
[But Volgin had already made his way inside, leaving Ivan standing, still disgusted, at the entrance.]
This isn't even sanitary! Ugh...
[He unwillingly made his way over to Volgin, refusing to sit down on the dirt.]
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[Volgin was used to these conditions, having been on worse during the War. For one, the dirt was not soaked with blood.
He found the antiseptic and, wincing as his pant leg made an audible strrrppp as the dried bloody adhesive gave away, he poured it right in, hissing as it bubbled. Reaching for the gauze, he proceeded to dab the wound and clean the blood away. The state of his patella was another matter: The bastard broke it, he could feel the pieces, and no doubt he would be forced to bed-rest at the worst possible time. Staying put would be death, with his former subordinate knowing this place to his disadvantage prowling about. He did not know how many Ocelots were out there, but all of them were threats.
His single eye made a brief survey of the musky room for possible snipers.
Meanwhile, a little red goat, with tiny pointed horns, ambled towards Raikov, taking some of his pant leg in its small mouth.]
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You know, we have just moved one door down, but no--you had to pick the room with foul smelling animals and shit all over the ground--
[The goat startled him, and Ivan jumped back.]
Shoo! [He put a boot in its face.]
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Think like a soldier, Ivan! The animals are providing cover!
[Yet, his knee would be best seen by a doctor, unfortunately. Not to mention his remaining eye socket, for best measure (although he still sensed his original eye there, but his lids -- felt nothing). Anger boiled inside of him, as he cleaned his face. That bastard, Ocelot!
The goat's teeth still had Ivan's pant leg, tugging at it as the boot pushed its face away.]
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[Ivan grabbed the goat's face, trying to pry it's mouth off of his jodhpurs.]
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