Rex came to again at some point during the early morning.
He had gunshot wounds, and although supposedly he had been very close to dying and had lost enough blood to offer some to a whole squad, he recovered very quickly. By noon, he had already gotten out of bed and stated to anyone who wanted to hear him that he felt as good as new. It was not true; although his injuries were clean and stitched, they still had to heal and that would require more time. Not even we, the hybrids, are that fantastic.
Seeing my friend with so much spirit helped me a lot to lift my mood, I am not going to lie.
Rex and I spent the time talking in Spanish until evening fell, alternating our conversation with the sporadic visits of Wade Hildebrand, Hilda’s uncle, and Hilda herself. Or rather, Rex was the one w
