“uh, I don’t want to be mean,” squeaked Dose “b-but shouldn’t it be like. Easy to tell?”

Juan looked at her, “What do you mean?”

“W-well look at his…his…” She steeled herself but the words still came out at only a whisper, “the body”

“Jesus Christ Dose, he’s injured he isn’t dead,” said Tracey.

“Don’t jump all over her!” Juan shouted

Dose continued, “I just meant we could look at his wounds”

“Don’t be rude Dose, there’s no way even a accidental birth like Juan would over look that, right Juan?”

Tracey looked over, but Juan was pointed avoiding eye-contact and tapping his fingers against each other.

“Right Juan?” She repeated.

“Mmm? Oh, yes of course…wounds and…would you excuse me for a minute?” He started to step backwards towards a door.

“Juan you dumb cow queef”

While Juan and Tracey continued to argue betwixt themselves, Dose tiptoed through the doorway, and into the impromptu clinic. On the table a man was lying motionless. He had curly hair which fell to his chin, and the ghost of a mustache. His face was fairly standard. Two eyes, a fairly pointy nose, lips. A chin. His toned arms and quivering bare chest bore many tattoos of things that could or could not be important to him. A butterfly right below his sternum, two sparrows above his pecs, and on his shoulders a G and an A. On his right arm an eagle, his left arm a horrible child’s doodle of skulls, guitars, stars, roses, and mermaids.

“Oh my god! You’re…”

He roused delicately. Looked up at her with slightly confused, but confident eyes.

“So ugly!”

His eyes crossed, and he fell unconscious again.

Dose peeked her head back out the door, “Hey guys, are you done?”

The two stopped arguing and glaring in unison at Dose, screamed, “WHAT”

Dose blinked several times and pulled back their heads, “HURTful first of all. Second, he woke up then passed out again.”

They stormed into the room, and took up one on each side of the body.

“Fuck he’s ugly,” said Tracey

“He just doesn’t look good in the, the face”

“Ladies! Please!” cried Juan “…he’s right here!” then muttered, “And we can inquire about whether his parents were siblings, or cousins later.”

They slowly looked over his body and decided which wound to examine first. He had bandages across his chest and legs, and one on his hand. They slowly undid the bandage across his thigh. There were deep jagged gouges, torn downwards through his flesh.

“Why’d they only go for his legs?” asked Tracey,

“I mean they FUCked up his horse too” said Juan

Dose was peeking through her fingers at the resting scout, “It looks like, like a CLAW wound”

Juan squirmed, “Damn…I was worried about that. Back when I first rounded up the lambs I found one all opened up. Where the poor thing was still intact I could see marks like these.”

They looked at the other two wounds with the same choppy edges as the first, but the third was a simple slash.

“Well doesn’t this just fuck our theory’s ass”

“Tracey please can you refrain? At least leave every other word free from curses”

Tracey responded by sticking out her tongue and putting up two middle fingers.

“Well wait” Dose’s eyes focused, “This one is thin, tiny in comparison to the others, and looks mostly healed over,” she got really close to the cut and started poking around it, “see? It doesn’t even bleed when provoked.”

Tracey and Juan looked at each other puzzled at Dose’s new found iron stomach.

“Wait! This looks like,” Dose scrambled over the table and body, grabbing Juan’s pants,

“Ah! Dose? What the heck?!”

“Don’t start being coy with your body now! What was it, last week? When you were talking about being God’s gift to women?”

Juan scampered across the room.

“Juannn come on I just wanted to see the scrape you got the other day when Tracey threw her ax at you!” said Dose, still laying across the wounded scout.

Juan suspiciously turned around and lowered his pants down to just below his ass meat.

“Juan you’re flat as hell what the fuck”

“Shut up Tracey”

“Look! There! See?”

Dose beckoned Juan’s ass over to the table where she compared the two wounds and they looked almost exactly the same. Juan’s was a little less clean.

“So what does this mean?” Juan asked.

“Well maybe Tracey got angry and—”

“It means,” Tracey cut Dose off, “That he was attacked. Which means there are,” They all spoke at once, “Others.”