The young scout looked somewhat crestfallen when he realized who the second scout headed their way was.
Gerry was one of the many humans who had unstable mutations cleansed by the witches over the last year, but more importantly, he was a perpetually cranky veteran scout with over thirty years of experience in the wilderness of the Frozen Wastes.
Making it into your forties or fifties was hard enough out here, but to make it that far as a scout was nearly impossible once the old injuries started adding up. Just managing not to be crippled in a monster attack for thirty straight years was a major achievement.
He walked straight up to the group and gave Ann a hug, then patted her head with a paternal smile.
