"Damn thats the smartest thing you've said all morning, round of fucking applause."
“Keep pushing at me, Jules, and I’ll make sure to point in your direction when Mika gets hungry.”
”Fuck you Rowan...You and your demon dog.”
"Shut up!" Paz snarls. The usually resistant cords of her patience pulled too tightly. Snapping all at once. She rubs a hand over her hair as she gives Jules her meanest glare. Which isn't all that mean, all things considered shes used to being the sunshine-y one. At least, when she can be. "Voices carry out here."
She doesn't know what they'd do now if they got caught, it isn't something she wants to think about.
A group existing at their level of ragtag should have absolutely no chance surviving out here in the wild. That is, if they were anyone else in the world. The determination to continue on alone is enough to keep Paz on her feet, despite the sudden dawning that their chances are slim. Its easy enough in theory to play the part of capable, its another thing entirely to look at a map made up of cryptic symbols and vague sketches and pretend to have the slightest clue as to where they're going.
The compass helps, at least. There's a basis there.
Paz runs her hand along the mark on the map that they're heading for. Tries to gauge miles based on the key. If they keep walking south they're bound to find it at some point. Its the only good thing about being the farthest Northern point on the map, to get anywhere all they have to do is keep going South.
She doesn't put the map away for a while as they walk, scans it every now and again as if she has any sense of directions. At best, they can avoid the obvious marks that are Hunter camps. At worst, they'll have to do some running. All in all, the reward outweighs the risk any day. She can see why this would be daunting - is daunting. There's a horrifying level of we're going to die involved with the wilderness. A learned habit of avoiding what lays beyond a locked door. Figuratively, and literally in the case of The Falls Gate. They're beyond that door now, and Paz can feel the chill down to her bones with every aching step.
They're at it for a while, walking mostly in silence but sometimes speaking. Paz keeps her eye on the Wolfdog from her peripherals, because while she trusts the capabilities of a born hunter she can see the logic in her other friends fears - he's still a predator, even if he's cute, and the hunters certainly don't use them for the companionship aspect. For Rowan's sake, she hopes he's an asset rather than a hindrance or heaven forbid a danger. The community raises their wolves to hunt down the things they can't.
Every small noise sends a distinct thrill of anxiety rushing through her gut. At one point, she notices the lights shift from the mornings soft harsh glow to the darkening afternoon glare. Soon it'll drift into dusk, darker than anything that used to be - in tales told - normal.
Shelter first, then they'll worry about the night.
"Turn one of those on, we should check and see if there are any Hunters around." So long as they're in range they'll be able to pick up the signal. A dangerously useful tool, and Paz is much happier with the knowledge that they'll have them.
A few hundred feet later Paz pauses, tries to ignore the ache in her legs and the burning of her lungs as each mouthful of air becomes colder. The telltale signs of night drawing near, a chill much harsher than anything they've ever known inside the communities walls.
This is as good as its going to get.
"Ok." She drops her pack to the ground in what feels like the center of a thicket - it could go on for longer, but this is dense enough to keep the majority of the wind off of them, branch litter and hardy weeds will be good too. They can build a fire, maybe get some crude structures built. Enough to keep from losing any fingers or toes in the night. At least, for now.
"This is as good a place as any," She announces, unzips her pack and digs through it for several items of interest. She stands a few seconds later, looking at the scattering of branches around her. The snow has made most of them too wet, but ones that are propped up on rubble and piled on top of other sticks should be dry enough. They can always cut off a few more branches too, they've got strong enough knives. If they can cut through animal bones they can certainly cut through a tree branch.
Within fifteen minutes, give or take with a few misfires, she's got a fire going. The warmth it gives off a relief, despite having to temper it down. They don't want the smoke climbing past the tree line. After dark they'll have to get it down even lower. Less heat, but risking having a beacon of light out in the wilderness isn't all that smart. Both from threat of over confident predators and hunters. The tree's, as thick as they are, can only do so much to prevent broadcasting their location.
"We should eat," She prompts, already set down in front of the fire to warm herself. Its almost cruel knowing that soon she'll have to let the cold sink back in. "Then we can rustle up some shelter from the wind."
She had planned on maybe finding time to hunt but with the way the sun had begun to dip she doubted there would be time. The later it got the more terrifying the animals got. She had never been out past dusk, it was a whole new monster to tackle. One that they were all facing together on even ground.
RPG
