Shae Kalin
Never knows best...
The Renolds crew had been on Generis for days helping with the rescue and relief efforts in the wake of the quakes that ripped through the planet. Shae had seen so much death in those caves and it wearied her; not just in body but in her soul, it hurt to think of all the people lost to the quakes. Add to that the exhaustion of having not slept in days, Shae was dead tired; even when some of the Mandos had managed to catch little power naps, Shae had worked non-stop tracking the people buried under all that rock until she was ready to collapse. Kenna might have said something to her as they walked up the ramp into the ship, but Shae didn't even hear it, the Ruferalahuin woman was just so out of it.
Shae staggered down the corridor to her bunk, tugging her mask off and hanging it on her belt, then she unzipped her old, tattered armorweave suit and peeled it off her torso to reveal a myriad of bruises and abrasions up and down her arms and peeking out from the sweat soaked tank top underneath. She didn't realize it, but she was leaving a trail of blood on the deck plating as she walked, her paws all cut up from the rough cave terrain. She'd stopped several times in between rescues to have her feet patched up and bandaged, but she would go right back into the caves to keep searching, reopening the wounds on her paws. Her paws had been patched up again before leaving, but somewhere between the triage center and the ship her wounds had reopened yet again, bleeding through the bandages. But she couldn't even feel it, she was numb to her core.
When Shae finally reached her quarters, she didn't bother stripping off the rest of her suit or removing her gear, she simply flopped onto her bed with a heavy exhale. Part of her knew she should probably go take a shower; it would help remove the smell of blood and dust from her nose as well as ease the tension in her aching body, but now that she was on her bunk she couldn't move. She was just... so tired. Sleep, she needed sleep, she would tend to her other needs later...
[member="Malcom Renolds"]
Shae staggered down the corridor to her bunk, tugging her mask off and hanging it on her belt, then she unzipped her old, tattered armorweave suit and peeled it off her torso to reveal a myriad of bruises and abrasions up and down her arms and peeking out from the sweat soaked tank top underneath. She didn't realize it, but she was leaving a trail of blood on the deck plating as she walked, her paws all cut up from the rough cave terrain. She'd stopped several times in between rescues to have her feet patched up and bandaged, but she would go right back into the caves to keep searching, reopening the wounds on her paws. Her paws had been patched up again before leaving, but somewhere between the triage center and the ship her wounds had reopened yet again, bleeding through the bandages. But she couldn't even feel it, she was numb to her core.
When Shae finally reached her quarters, she didn't bother stripping off the rest of her suit or removing her gear, she simply flopped onto her bed with a heavy exhale. Part of her knew she should probably go take a shower; it would help remove the smell of blood and dust from her nose as well as ease the tension in her aching body, but now that she was on her bunk she couldn't move. She was just... so tired. Sleep, she needed sleep, she would tend to her other needs later...
[member="Malcom Renolds"]