Chapter Text
You are young when the sickness comes. A cold that didn't leave, moving to the lungs and staying there.
It takes and takes until you are the last one standing. You leave. There's nothing to keep you here and at least out there you wint be alone with ghosts.
You avoid the ferals and any apes you see signs of. It is a lonely existence but it is yours.
An ill placed foot is all it takes to destroy that.
You land hard, and feel as your ankles break beyond anything you could fix. If it was one or the other you may have had a hope of walking again.
But both are shattered. It is the end. You ration out what you have in food and water but know that the end is only days away.
Or so you think.
He finds you huddled at the bottem of the ridge. Dirty, tried and defeated, you wouldn't have been a match even at your best.
Proximus is your saviour. Your saving grace.
Proximus is your master, and you are his.