Isla
I PERSONALLY PREFER THE FRIGID Season. At least I won't have to deal with all this heat plus the pain I'm already suffering. I woke up when the sun was high up in the sky and burning the Earth mercilessly with its rays.
Everything is blurry and the air is punctuated by the irking smell of unwashed bodies. My arm is aching dully, I turn my eyes to scrutinize it, the image of the protruding arrow fills my mind but I'm very surprised to find my arm heavily bandaged with a damp foul-smelling cloth. I remember the smell of the herb too well, mother used to use it on our wounds when we were much younger. I'm shocked that our captors had the heart to treat our wounds. They will probably want us in good shape for the life of s*****y they have in store for us.
I begin to feel very lighthead
