"You'll be good, yeah?" he asks, done changing your bandages. You weren't bit— thank whatever— but you were injured recently on a run, snagging your side on barbed wire.

"Yessir." you nod, and lay your head back on the thin pillow, closing your eyes.

"Smartass." Shane chuckled to himself, and gently swiped past your cheekbone with his thumb.

"I ain't gonna be gone long, yeah? Just fetchin' firewood, then dumping it at the camp site, and I'll be back." he bids one more time, kissing the top of your head, and zips open the tent flap, getting himself out.

You get to sleep for a few minutes more, till you hear a rustle outside, like scratching of the outer lining of the tent, and the zipper slowly, very slowly, pull open.

".. Shane..?" you call out, replied to with something not Shane-sounding. A snarl.