[color=sandybrown][h1]Laura Miller[/h1][/color]
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[b]August 18, 2039 10:05 AM
Central Brooklyn[/b]

As Laura got closer to the source of the ear-splitting scream, she saw that it had came from a man. And he didn't look like a raider. That was great. She didn't have to kill him then. Besides, from her position, he looked to be in pretty bad-shape. He was still moaning about, and he rolled over and clutched his head. He struggled to stand, and as he faced her, she saw the familiar crimson sight of blood. 

[i]Was he injured perhaps? [/i]

He sure looked like it. As she walked up to the guy, she took in his appearance. A tall and gangly man with a shock of wavy brown hair. His hair looked like it was soaked in a combination of sweat and blood. How long had he been injured? His face seemed to be flowing with blood, and so was his sweatshirt. 

This man here, though he looked half-dead, was the first living person she had seen that wasn't a bandit raider. Some company would be nice, it's been a long time since she has had any company of any sort.

As Laura crouched down, she swung back her rifle and began to stare at the guy, she spoke [color=coral][b]"Hey, are you alright? Do you need help?"[/b][/color] She then placed her backpack on the ground as she took out a relatively clean piece of cloth, she normally used for wrapping goods to wrap it up. She tied the cloth around his wound, like a bandana of sorts. 

[i]Best keep that covered until they find medication of any sort.[/i] Looking around, she saw that the two of them were completely alone in the deserted streets. Prodding the guy, she kept on the look-out for any sign that the guy was beginning to regain consciousness.