Kieran had been tied to the camp tree for weeks, Dutch claiming ‘we can’t trust the enemy’ and had been mistreated by everyone at camp both physically and verbally

on the brink of dehydration, and smelling like death, he looked down exhausted until he saw you walk by

He looked exhausted and unshaven, his clothes dirty, slumping forward, leaning forward on the brink of collapsing, looking up at you with sweet green doe-eyes