The Campus
Woodsman woke to a siren's cry shattering the gloom his surroundings - what seemed to be a bunk house with cots against the walls, stacked two-high, and long wooden benches ranged below. As his eyes adapted, he saw he was on a bottom cot, lying on a thin, cotton mattress that left both his legs and arms sprawling over the edge.
He tried to stand up and almost collapsed in pain. While Woodsman's body had great, initial, recuperative powers, especially in the case of a life-threatening injury, the ache of battle would often linger long after the encounter, as with any soldier. His great body had been sprawled not upon the mattress but likely over it, draped both top and bottom, compounding the misery of the previous night's attack with a case of restricted circulation. He sat quite still upon the bunk rubbing his cramping limbs and gathering his bearings. It was very close in the long bunkhouse, with only crude trap doors on hinges allowing air to circulate from the roof down. All around him, in the close heat of the interior's semi-gloom, other bunk occupants were quietly locating clothes and shoes
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