She found Dog sitting on the cold, damp ground outside the pit’s gate. He was shackled and there was blood on his chest and face, none of it his. Two guards stood over him with guns drawn and pointed. “Are you hurt?” Allegra asked. Dog looked up at her with eyes that were glassy. He blinked and his gaze was distant, as if he were a world away. “He was weak,” he finally said. The guilt was splattered on his face along with the blood. At that moment, Allegra saw Dog for what he truly was: A sad, hopeless boy. She knelt down and took a cloth from her medical kit. Allegra showed him the smiling moon on the front of the bag and saw the tension slowly melt away from his body as he relaxed. “I’m going to clean up some of the blood,” she said. He nodded. Allegra brought the white cloth up to his head and removed some of the gore from his cheek. She was careful to be gentle as she eased the cloth along the side of his face.
