010314 #jonquil Dude, check it out. Mary came up close, closer than personal space usually allows, and she smelled good, shampoo mixed with cooled sweat, intermingling with the decomposition of the autumnal patch of woods outside. She rolled up the black sleeve of her ::sweatshirt::. Underneath was a gauzy, lacy black sleeve, obscuring a pattern of dark red. She pushed up that sleeve too, and Gwen felt foolish for almost letting out a gasp when she saw that the pattern was dried blood, lacerations scabbing over.