After a long, cold war that lasted 5 bloody years, their was the final battle to win the war and freedom with one last battle to win and finally go home. but as you fought in gunfire and battle you get a terrible injury. the sun rose and the general and all the other soldiers though you died of your injuries and got to drive home in army trucks to your home town

But you were alive. you woke up from blacking out and see the bloody battlefield. you manage to walk to base to find left over medical supplies and fins them all gone and the trucks gone. you were left behind

You must face a 500 mile walk to your home town with many dangers lying ahead. hungry predators, a terrible injury, and barely any supplies. Will you survive after all and go home and go face to face with the general (anyone can be the general!) and decide what to do or say to his face and the soldiers you called 'friends' who would be there for you.

Name:
Gender:
Species: (human, animal you get it)
Behavior:
Abilities:
Injury:
Appearance:

Name: Waylon Park
Gender: male
Species: human
Behavior: he is a good hearted man that believes that everyone deserves a second chance. The people he killed in the war still haunts him today and the only thing keeping him going is the thought that he will be able to see the look on his parents face when they get the news of him not being dead, along with the thought of holding his wife and children again.
Abilities: he lacks survival skills but makes up for it in fighting skills. He is good with a gun and hand to hand combat though he wouldn't know what to do with a squirrel if he caught one. He is a faster learner with a will to stay determined and living.
Injury: while fighting Waylon took a bullet for a friend (whom lived!). He was shot in the gut, which is a not lethal injury until you get an infection from the wastes leaking from you intestines. It's closer to his left side,the bullet having not passed through completely though it went deep enough to clip one of his intestines, meaning he has very limited time before he gets a fever and can't continue on his journey. While he was down his friend confronted him and told him to hang in there before getting pulled away by another friend whom was eager to get out from open ground. He was left to die out there surrounded by corpses and equally/less/worse injured people. Despite the pain he is in he managed to get up from the injury, which was pretty deep and bleeds a lot still (for a gut wound) along with leaking bile and stomach fluid, better for him yet still not good.
Pic:
With his wife and kids

Name: General Doug Gray
Gender: M
Species: Human
Behavior: he man with a good heart and lives in the town after the war with his soldiers who are feasting on hot well made meals and with there family
Abilities: he i now retired but is still with his friends
Injury: None
Appearance: he wears a green worn coat with camouflage shirt and brown camouflage pants. has a ginger beard and short ginger hair and wears a army hat with a medal

Name: Otis Wolfe
Gender: M
Species: Humanoid wolf
Behavior: he was jolly and hardy but when he found out she was left to die, his heart turned black and wants to go face to face with his soldier 'friends' and make them turn pale a a sheet in guilt
Abilities: he survived many times but it's now hard for him
Injury: a bullet through the neck, missing the spine and vital parts but shock made him pass out
Appearance: he is dark burnt brown with a light ginger underbelly and muzzle. dark gray dots above his eyes and hands. he stitched the wounds but doesn't want to speak to injure it more. instead he uses sign he learned from his younger brother who is deaf. he has 3 brother's not including him and mum and dad

Do you want to go ahead and start?

Name: Omid Greene
Age: 21 years
Species: human
Behavior: he is a kind soul whom doesn't really belong in this war. He is kind by nature yet a killer by example. Omid has the best shot out of his group, yet he will always hesitate before firing a bullet.
Abilities: having grown up on a farm Omid has some experience with hunting, camping and basic survival. He is a good navigator, and with a map and compass can find his way anywhere.
Injury: Omid suffers from two broken legs. His left leg has the calf muscle sticking out of it and the right legs knee is too busted for him to move it. This was caused when the camp packed up and left, thinking he was dead they didn't bother to move him out of the way before driving off this that ran over both his legs. The damage may not be able to be fixed even with the help of the doctors.
Pic:

(yeah)

Where was he, this wasn't home nor was it camp. So where was it? Waylon opened his eyes slowly finding he was laying on his back looking up at the pretty blue sky. It was such a lovely day, the sun was warm but not hot, the clouds were white and fluffy like cotton balls in the sky. Something was not right though, it was too quiet. Slowly Waylon turned his head to the left nearly screaming when he saw the face of a dead man staring back at him. That could only mean that he was still on the field, that he had been left behind by those who swore never to leave any man behind, alive or dead. That could only mean.... Waylon lifted his head up slowly looking to see what damage had been done for his friends to have just abandoned him. His chest was fine, just as he left it. Arms, both still there with a hand attached to both and five fingers on each hand. So far so good...he gazed down along his torso before he came to the large red stain that stood out on his jacket ruining the camp pattern. Gagging at the sight of that much of his own blood having been spilled, Waylon laid his head back down. Slowly he raised a hand to put on the wound, wincing as he touched it. Waylon knew that he needed to get up, that moving was what was important now though he still laid there. He couched some causing his said to burn in pain. Getting up was his main objective, he had to check the damage delt to him from the bullet that had not claimed his life. With gritted teeth he rose, a hand still tightly clasped on his side. His vision blurred and threatened to leave him passed out again if he didn't stop moving. Breathing was just as difficult. Rugged gasps could be heard as he doubled over in pain. Why was he even trying? Could he not see that it was pointless? He was doing it for his family, for the friend he had rises his life for, for anyone out there that though giving up was the easiest way to go. Slowly he rose to his near full height before hobbling like drunk man towards the tents of their camp.

Otis opened his eyes sleepily and saw the sky. he tilted his head and saw the battle field with bodies littered about. he felt like saying are you ok but then he felt a sharp pain in his neck and put his hand on his neck and slightly gasps. he checked the other side and felt another wound. 'did the bullet miss and went through?' he thinks and gets with his bones cracking for being laying in one position for so long. he gets up and looks around and looks to the camp that was attacked "is anyo-"he stopped as he felt the wound act up and he just stopped talking. he walks over, stepping over the bodies and looking at the camp that was wrecked and torn. he took another step and felt ash in his feet and looks at more bodies then looks at the armory. the trucks were gone. 'god no. GOD PLEASE NO' he thinks and looks at a dirt road. there were tire tracks. he takes out a photo of his family from his shirt pocket. he slightly rests his head don it and a few tears dripped down his cheeks. 'i promise to be back' he thinks

He slammed the radio down on the table only to cause himself to have to lean on the table for support as he gasped for breath. Waylon gripped the edge of the table as his side seemed to catch fire again. This was not good, not good at all, how was he going to get home now? The radio was busted, and everything else in the tent was gone leaving him with nothing. He stammered for a rugged breath as he sank into a chair, resisting for a moment. Moving his hand a slight bit he decided that his wound shouldn't be left in treated. Then again maybe they could. It was not a pretty sight to have to see.... The skin was a beet red color around the wound and firey to the touch. Stil it lacked blood mixed with a chunky brown liquid that didn't look right to begin with. Waylon gagged and force his hand back on the wound to cover it. That's when he heard the voice from outside. It hadn't said much, but it said something and that was a good sign. "Over here...in the tent." He called back wincing as he forced himself back to his feet. Either way wether it be the enemy, or his company he would be glade to see them.

Otis perked his ears up and looked atone of the tents, he walks run and looks in and see's a soldier with a bloody wound. he thinks of running but see's the army badge of his town. he looks at the wound and looks at the medical tent. he jogs over and scavenges through the cabinets, a sewing needle, a few bandages and a flask of alcohol. he kicks a nearby table then see's a container roll to his feet. he picks it up and reads the all to familiar morphine. he looks at his shirt and pulls out a long loose string and a small bottle of disinfection. 'remember how dad stitched up a cut' he thinks then heads back with the supplies bundled. 'what do i do' he looks at the supplies and at the soldier, he puts the supplies on a table then looks through his pockets and he takes out a box of matches and a cloth. "you...have...other...supplies...i...take...this" he slowly says then walks outside "don't...follow" he says then walks in another tent 'he shouldn't see this surgery'

He strikes a match with the cloth on a stick and a few more stuff he found, syringe, bandages, a needle and a bundle of string. and lucky, morphine. he looks at the fire then takes the syringe and injects the morphine in his wound, then stitches up the wounds with a few tears. he picks up the fire stick he stuck in the ground. he breathes then sighs. wit tears and teeth gritting he slowly edges the fire near his wound. 'this is a way to close it so it doesn't open up again' he thinks then presses the flaming cloth on his wound with a scream with bits cut short with the pain and wound acting up