<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/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 255, 255)"><span style="font-size: 15px">After cleaning and bandaging her wound, Blake began to crawl along the edge of the river, scooping up small clams she found here and there. It wasn't much but at least if they could cook them it would offer a small number of calories and protein to their bodies before nightfall. She kept checking on Bobbie, looking his way each time he brought back sticks, and eventually, she kept watching for the glow of embers. It was killing her that she was only witnessing the smoke rise from where he sat, but she had sat and watched, waiting for the smoke to bellow and turn to small licks of fire, but it never came. </span></span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(41, 105, 176)"><span style="font-size: 15px">"Come on Bobbie, you've got this..." </span></span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 255, 255)"><span style="font-size: 15px">She whispered to herself, praying a fire would start, the sun would be setting soon. It had already begun its descent in the sky, heading back towards the ocean's waves.<br/>
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[Writenex; Currently interacting with Bobbie. Open for interaction]</span></span>