Lenny was usually on guard duty for the camp, Seeing you ride out of camp and come back with blood on your shirt and mouth as if you had ate a messy cranberry pie.

He always thought it was odd. Maybe it was more than that too— how your skin was pale, you never shown your teeth, and you never stepped into sunlight.

“Who’s there?” Lenny called out, seeing it was just you— your shirt was ruined. Again. “You ever gonna tell me what you do outside camp?” He asked sarcastically.