animus vox

Outlaw had survived the rest of the night, but most of the time his face was wet with tears. He had no best friend anymore. It had struck him at some point that Railroad was really gone, really dead. His life was over. He wasn't coming back. Outlaw limped awkwardly along, following a little ways behind Dogmeat. He respected the old man for staying so seemingly confident through the night. While others whined or screamed or cried or ran off crazily, Dogmeat had searched through the rubbish for survivors. Outlaw's respect had been easy to earn for the dog. He walked up behind the group, his eyes on the horizon. "I'm here," Outlaw contributed with a glance towards Dogmeat. He stayed back a few feet, untrusting of them yet. Even though he respected him, they still had not earned Outlaw's trust.