[She hears the shot, but not in time to dodge nearly as effectively as she'd like to, and it hits - in her right shoulder, grazes anyway. She can feel blood running down her arm before she registers the thunk of the bullet into the tree trunk behind her.]
[There's a moment of pain, very nearly of fear, and then she thinks: well. Could've been worse. And, wincing, she moves over to snatch Racetrack's shirt off the tree before disappearing behind a bush.]
[It's satisfying, ripping it to ribbons with her teeth. Use what supplies are to hand. It's very nice cloth for bandages anyway.]
spam sandwich
[There's a moment of pain, very nearly of fear, and then she thinks: well. Could've been worse. And, wincing, she moves over to snatch Racetrack's shirt off the tree before disappearing behind a bush.]
[It's satisfying, ripping it to ribbons with her teeth. Use what supplies are to hand. It's very nice cloth for bandages anyway.]