<div style="text-align: center"><b><span style="font-size: 15px">Blake Zimmerman - A 23-year-old female</span><br/>
<span style="font-size: 12px">Knowledgeable In The Medical Field<br/>
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</div></span></b>​</div><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(41, 105, 176)"><span style="font-size: 15px">Loafer- Blake</span></span><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(46, 139, 87)"><span style="font-size: 15px">Writenex- Bobbie</span></span><br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 255, 255)"><span style="font-size: 15px">Blake pondered Bobbie's words, while he sounded like a bird-brained person, one thing did make sense. </span></span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(41, 105, 176)"><span style="font-size: 15px">"We should actually try to build a shelter here. The water is fresh and trying to find another place would be stupid." </span></span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 255, 255)"><span style="font-size: 15px">She looked around, wondering what they could do. </span></span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(41, 105, 176)"><span style="font-size: 15px">"I don't think I would be of help when it comes to building a shelter. Do you even know anything about building a shelter?" </span></span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 255, 255)"><span style="font-size: 15px">They would need to be up off the ground to prevent the loss of body heat when night fell. Something that had a top to shield them from the sun since it was an open area, but also from rain. At that moment there really wasn't anything they could do to keep a fire going if it rained, but the first thing was a shelter. They could build a fire later, they needed somewhere to sleep. That was until her stomach growled, making her groan softly. </span></span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(41, 105, 176)"><span style="font-size: 15px">"Maybe I can search the river for something we can eat if you want to try and make a fire? You have made one before... right?" </span></span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 255, 255)"><span style="font-size: 15px">She looked at him with worried eyes. If they could get a fire started, how would they be able to eat anything with protein in it? After a few moments, she looked away, turning to her wound. She needed to clean her wound first of all. She began to untie the shirt from her leg, setting it aside in the water, she let the blood that clung to it runoff. She secured the shirt with a rock to make sure it didn't float away. She then gently began to pluck the flowers and leaves from her wound.<br/>
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Once she had pulled out as much as she could, she took the leaf cup from Bobbie and poured the clean water over the wound. It was refreshing, the cold water streaming against the inflamed, raw flesh. She gently moved her finger around the wound, trying to ensure it was thoroughly cleaned. It hurt, of course, but she had to deal with it. Biting her tongue she cleaned at it more before finally stopping. She cleaned up the flowers and leaves before doing the same steps she had previously done, pulling the flowers and jamming them into the wound. She also used the leaves as well to ensure it was compacted and then she pulled the shirt from the river, squeezing the water from it she then wrapped it around her wound tightly. She yelped in pain as she tightened the shirt with a final twist and knotted it.<br/>
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She then looked back to Bobbie. </span></span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(41, 105, 176)"><span style="font-size: 15px">"You know, I never said thank you, for letting me use your shirt."</span></span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 255, 255)"><span style="font-size: 15px">She gave him a soft smile before it disappeared. They were in such a grim situation, she just had wished there were others to help them, to help Bobbie with the work, since she was merely disabled at this point.<br/>
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[Writenex; Currently interacting with Bobbie. Open for interaction]</span></span>