Crisis Bonding

Three strangers crouched around a small fire, warming their hands. Despite that earlier two of them had come to the third's aid, they were keenly aware they weren't friends but momentary allies; strangers linked by their strangeness. None of them were sure how they got to this strange place and all three were eager to go home.

Adam sighed, “I miss my cat.”

Marshall stared deep into the fire, “I miss my horse.”

Lion-O scratched at his jaw with a taloned hand. “I miss my snarf.”

Adam and Marshall both turned to look at Lion-O.

“It's like a pet.”

They both nodded, minds awonder at what a snarf looked like.

Two soldiers with guns crashed into view. Their black armor covered them from head to toe in hard angles and gave them twisted skull-like faces. Across their chests flew a winged skull traced in silver. More soldiers appeared behind the first two.

A voice, curt through static-y distortion, called out, “Stand and be recognized.”

Behind the three men, thick trunked trees exploded in red pulsating fire.