Skip to scratchy bitey?))

Yes why don't we, I assume I start?))

Makes sense))

Luke was standing guard. Or at least trying. He'd taken great care in waiting till both girls were asleep before he got up to watch out. Just in case.. He was however dozing off while he leaned against the wall, his head down. Mary startled awake, surprisingly quiet. She saw Luke first since she was on the floor and Mercy was on the bed. She saw an opportunity to stab him and then bite him, what was left of her little intellect really blossomed in the moment. She pulled out a knife, a dagger, from her boot and stood up, creeping toward him. Something woke him up, and that something was the rush of her running at him. He stepped forward and grabbed her hand as it came at him. The scariest part was how strong she was, because she threw him hard right back into that wall. He grunted at the stinging in his back, but it wore off quickly. Mostly because of the adrenaline. He knocked the knife out of her hand and shoved her off, but she came back like a magnet and threw him back on the wall. It ended up being the door and he flew right out, the rifle dropped on the ground. His handgun regretfully not in its holster. He pushed himself away slowly as she ran down the steps and onto him. He didn't notice the raking of claws down his right forearm ..like at all.

She jolted awake and saw them grappling out of the door, throwing herself out of bed and sprinting into the yard to follow them, whipping a handgun out of a holster on her hip. She had known better than to put it away. She grabbed both of Mary's biceps, forcing her shoulder blades together and pulling her toward the left enough that she could force her back and to the ground, standing with one foot on each wrist. "You messed with the wrong motherfucker, bitch." She shot one after another into the rotting... creature? Until she had unloaded her entire magazine, throwing her gun down and kicking the cropse over so it laid on its stomach and Luke wouldn't have to see it. She ignored the blood splattered visciously around her body, spinning around and not looking the least bit perturbed that she had just killed a human being. "I fucking told you so." She sighed, taking a few quick strides toward him. "Where? Where did she get you?"

He watched Mercy come downthe stairs like a hero ..or a very awesome woman- and rip the girl off of him. He pushed himself away, watching in pure panic, mostly watching the creature below get pummeled into the ground he grimaced, sitting up and leaning on his right arm, it felt weak but at the time it didn't hurt. He panted, his back tight as he pulled himself onto all fours and attempted to stand up. "What? I don't think she got me," he said softly, having trouble balancing. It was very dark out and he didn't notice his eyes unfocusing more and more.

"God I hope not." She crouched and laid his arm over her shoulders, helping him stand up and guiding him into the house. She let him sit on the bed and looked over his body for injuries, grabbing his arm and sighing as she saw the long, deep scratches. She rushed off to get some water and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. "Im sorry, but this is gonna hurt like hell. Uhm- You might want to grab something?" She offered her hand as she uncorked the whiskey, taking a fast swig.

((Im just gonna say she trying to flush out any chance of him being infected by the scratch- also good night))

gooodnight Danno))

He shook his head, starting to realize his eyes weren't doing what they were supposed to. He barely leaned on her, just using a hand to help keep his balance. Sitting down on the bed was probably the best decision he'd made all night. He looked up at her, seeing the look on her face. He looked at his arm, noticing the gashes down his arm that were drooling a pool of blood onto his floor. Slowly, now that he'd seen it he started to feel it. It started as a sting..then it kept getting worse. He leaned forward putting a hand on his forehead, his eyes starting to cloud a little. "Who knew warm wounds bled so much." He said in a mesmerized and slurrish tone, watching the blood roll off his dingertips and onto the ground. He he shut his eyes, drifting away from where his arm was, his eyes tensing shut. "Oh my god it hurts." He said through gritted teeth. Leaning on his other arm and facing away so he wouldn't have to look at it.

She swallowed and rested one hand on his neck and the other held the bottle. She sat beside him and laid his hand on her leg so that the wound faced up. Without warning, she started dumping the whiskey over his arm, simultaneously pinching his neck in hopes to make it a bit easier. Theres was only so much pain her pinch could distract from. "Hey, Luke, what's your favorite color?" She asked, semi-loudly in hopes to keep him aware. She moved off to grab as many sterile bandage rolls as she could find, making her way back over to him and beggining to wrap his arm quickly, with easy, fast movements that spun a white bandage over his wound before he knew it.

He winced as she steadied him and moved his arm. He wondered why her hand was there on his till she started pouring. He held his breath tightly, coughing as he let it out. His head hung while he tried to pull himself together. He could barely bring himself to pull his arm back toward himself. He looked up at her, noticing in the light that his vision was a little faded. "Iiits..," he shut his eyes to think. "I think its turquoise." He mumbled. She was back all too soon. Because now she was touching it again. He looked away so she couldn't see his face, rocking slightly. When she was done he brought his arm back, the white bandages had already begun to stain red. But it was definitely less now. He lifted his arm a little, his hand was shaking. He could barely lift it up, and his fingers wouldn't move. "Shit." He murmured, drawing his arm back, he leaned over.