He took the barb to his skin again, angrily digging it deep into his flesh. He gasped when he saw his cut, it was deep, blood steadily running down his arm. Ben had never been good with large amounts of blood, and he began to feel woozy, covering his cut with his hand he sat back against the tree.
“Ben? Ben?” Ben heard someone calling him, “BEN? It’s Mike. Are you out here?”
Ben didn’t say anything, he could see Mike jogging through the trees not far from where Ben was sitting, looking around desperately trying to find his friend.
“Ben?” he called again, “Fuck,” he muttered, “BEN!” Mike really looked worried for his friend, and Ben started to feel bad for ignoring him, plus he was worried about the cut on his arm. It was still bleeding heavily.
