[Fluffie]

A dust column - something was coming toward the wreck, probably vehicles of some kind. Seated on the now useless medpack, he pulls a cig from the packet and puts it in between his lips. Looking at the dust column come closer and closer, he feels a thought beginning to dawn in his head. It’s there, still in the background and it somehow feels important... But that’s it.

Inhaling some good old nicotine and tar, he tucks the packet and his lighter away again. It felt as if it had been too long, far too long since he last had a smoke. Smoking again felt good. So good. Feeling his sore body and slightly freaked out mind relaxing a bit, he looked at the column of dust again.

Rangers...

The relaxed feeling disappeared without a trace. He thought he had heard someone else talk over the radio a few seconds before, but he hadn’t really heard. Pressing the general “send” button, he spoke with as clear a voice as he could.

“Fluffie here. We’ve got eh... incoming.”

Something in his head said it couldn’t be possibly Rangers, since he crashed their ride... But the bullets that had been flying around earlier were still kind of reasonably freshly embedded in his memory. He didn’t feel like fighting at all right now. He wanted to rest, his body and more precisely that wound taken care of.

Even in his still a bit dazed state he was capable of understanding that deserts and wounds didn’t mix well.

And so, in anticipation of further events, Fluffie started checking his two pistols, his SMG and his rifle. He wanted them working, just in case. He finished his cig though and he had a look around him, trying to see if there was anyone else near him. Maybe a medic, to look at that wound.