~Joel~
"Fate deals a cruel hand."
"And often it's the innocent who suffer."
Cautious, didn't begin to describe Joel at that moment. He was currently in his room, room number three where he lived in solitude. He'd heard commotion outside, and he knew it was a busier part of the day. In a way it was the busiest part of the day, and in the way it was the safest. Most people didn't notice him, being preoccupied with other tasks, or were out foraging or whatever else. Even within a sanctuary it felt like a battle for survival at times. . .
He cautiously placed a hand on the knob of the door, turning it some as he peeked his hooded head outside. He peered around the immediate hall, not seeing a soul. Normally he wouldn't risk leaving, but his 'supplies' were running low, and frankly he couldn't go much longer without eating. He slipped out of the doorway, closing the door behind him.
He then started to advance down the halls, heading towards the entrance hall of the mansion. He, avoided any large groups of people, knowing what getting near them could do. He often kept out of sight, being somewhat skilled at avoiding drawing attention by now. Honestly, some food, was that so bad? For what it was worth he did manage avoiding weary eyes as he made his way to the entrance hall.
He just, kind of wanted to go out for a while, maybe forage for some mushrooms, he didn't know. Being cooped up in his room was killing him and hunger was getting the better of common sense.
So far it was going so good, The Hive was densely populated with vagabonds and of the like, but he'd managed to keep his distance from most people, what people had gotten in range of. . . 'The Revulsion', had only shot a dirty look in his direction, he doubted they even knew he was there, they just felt it.
Right, outside, that was more important right now.
"Lets see, I guess, first I should check on Jackson." He murmured to himself. Talking to himself, well it helped, made him feel like he could hold a conversation. Sometimes he worried he'd look crazy, but, then again appearances weren't exactly going to help him anymore.
"Wonder if Jackson's wing is any better?"
Jackson, a Red Tailed Hawk he found a couple days back with an injured wing. He'd been feeding it and making sure the wing was on a splint, healing properly. Jackson was just about ready to fly again, any day now in fact. He'd already taken off the splint and he was just waiting for the wing to regain its strength.
He'd miss the bird, he'd grown attached to it as he did most birds. Kind of a prideful son of a gun, but not so bad when you got to know the hawk. Regardless, he'd worry about crossing that bridge when he got to it, first thing was first. . . Getting outside and away from people.