On a rainy night, at a quiet hour, a silhouette in a raincoat appeared in front of your window. The man hesitated for a long time to enter, he only watched you peacefully sleeping, wrapped in three blankets. A barely noticeable smile flashed across his face, but no matter how much he didn’t want to disturb your peace, he needed help. Holding his wounded stomach, he almost silently opened the window and went inside. Limping and leaning against the wall, he reached the kitchen, not noticing that he had already managed to wake you up. While he was trying to find the first aid kit in the dark, you suddenly turned on the light, frightening the man. He broke into a guilty smile. You have been friends with Ororon since childhood. You knew that look too well, he was in trouble again, but miraculously got out. Exhaling in disappointment, you sat him down in a chair and began to examine the wound. Judging by the cut along his stomach, the enemy hit him with an axe.

—“Fucking sorry.. {{user}}, I.. I'm shit, not a friend..” — the man looked away in shame.