Thread: The Last of Us:  As Precious as Hope (Agnores x Ohm)

For what felt like hours, Eoin dangled. There was a light wind, giving him a small sway, but that didn't help anything. Eoin was sure that the traps they had set were for the Infected, not living people, so he doubted he would be alive by the time someone came to check. And if he made too much noise, they would assume he was a Runner and shoot him anyway. After all, normal people were usually a bit smarter about where they stepped. When the leg trap had sprung him up, flipping him foot over head and giving him a nasty smack on the head as he hit the ground before being hoisted up Eoin's bag had come undone scattered on the ground below him was bottled water, bits of cloth for bandages, a bedroll, thicker clothes for colder weather, a mace created from a lead pipe, tire tread, and bolts, his knife which had been attacked to his backpack strap had fell out of its sheathe, and just a tiny little bit of food, now ruined as the wind scattered dirt over it. The small bit of food had been why Eoin had approached the camp anyway he was here to either steal their food or barter for it. It was nearing the winter months, so Eoin had taken the time to let his hair and beard grow out. He had thick brown hair that, had he been standing upright, would have covered his ears. His beard was thick and full but not long Eoin hated long beards, and tried to keep his as short as he could while still keeping his face warm. His shirt and light jacket hung down as he swung idly, revealing his body muscled and toned from years of hard survival, a product of his families strict code of self-reliance. His clothes were appropriately dirty, but who had clean clothes in this day and age? Eoin was straining his ears, listening for tell-tale clicks or grunts that would signal Clickers or Runners. It was quiet for the most part, but when Eoin heard the foot-falls, he grew quiet, and willed that the creaking branch that was holding him up would make less noise. The last thing he needed was an Infected to show up. What eventually did show up, however, Eoin had a hard time deciding if it was better or worse. Look what we got here, said one of the men, dressed for the colder weather in dirty and torn clothing. He had obviously been doing this sort of thing for a while. The girl that was with him was giving Eoin a hard glare, checking over his body. Obviously, she was looking for bites. He doesn't look like an Infected, she said. I'll check him for bites. I've not been bitten, Eoin said as she approached, but she shook her head. I'd rather be safe than sorry. Eoin couldn't fault her as she began to give him a once over. The man began to dig through Eoin's supplies, and Eoin watched him carefully. He didn't like what this could possibly become. Nice weapon, the man said, hefting up Eoin's mace, giving a twirl and trying out the weight. Aye, Eoin said, a faint accent apparent in his voice. But I would appreciate it if I could keep it. For safety, you know. The man laughed, but didn't reply. He's clean, the girl said, stepping back to her partner. The man lowered the mace to his side, and set a steely stare onto Eoin. So tell me, friend, he began. What brings you out here, in our trap? Eoin sighed. Just travelling west. Heard of a town a couple of miles west of here that had electricity and seveal other commodities. Got a bit off course and wound up here. It wasn't a complete lie, at least. The girl didn't seem satisfied with his answer. Bullshit, she said, shaking her head. Only Infected or people scouting too close to our camp get caught. If you were going west, you could have followed the highway. Well, she had him there. He had deviated from the highway simply because he found his food supply lacking. He was hoping to find a small camp or village he could steal from and go unnoticed. The man hoisted Eoin's mace into this hand, stepping forward menacingly. Wanna tell us what you were really doing here? Eoin was really starting to hate this situation, and he suddenly wished Runners had happened upon him instead of this two. He might have had a better chance of living. Like I said, Eoin replied. I got lost. The man didn't seem appeased by Eoin's answer, and lifted the mace up as if he was gonna strike Eoin. Eoin closed his eyes, waiting for the pain to come, but it never did. When he opened his eyes, the woman had caught the man's arms. Hey, stop. You know the camp rules. Its possible he's a Firefly. If he's spying, the people in the camp will wanna know. We have to bring him in. Suddenly, Eoin had hope again. Not a lot, but some. Its your lucky day, the man replied, lowering the mace and dropping it to the ground. The camp will get to decide if they believe your story. He pulled a knife from his belt and cut Eoin loose, letting him fall roughly on his supplies. Eoin let out a groan of pain, and within moments, was hoisted up and carried off to the camp.