"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Stark
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Nuts.
[ *  *  * ]
It was at that point it occurred to R.J. that he hadn't thought his cunning plan all the way through.

There was a shitload of prep work to be done to that deer before it would be ready to eat, or even cook, and the fact was, he didn't even have a knife. Suddenly, he felt like the shittiest caveman ever. This wasn't even the first time he'd done this, how did he let that slip his mind? The khanda wasn't going to cut it, so to speak, when it came to the precision he'd need for this. Not only had he just wasted a bullet, he'd taken the life of an innocent stag for absolutely nothing. He clutched his stomach as the pain continued to sharpen. Mary-Ann, he noticed, was just averting her eyes. God, this wasn't making things easier on her, was it?

Going to his bag, he pulled out his sleeping bag - not like he'd need it again, he thought - and covered the animal as best he could. Unless someone magically came along with a proper knife, the appetizers would be dinner. He slouched back over toward Mary-Ann, sitting down beside her with a sigh.

Whatever you've got, I guess.


6:15 AM

It was a testament to how shellshocked his experiences had left him that it wasn't the twenty-five deaths that fazed him now, but rather, the fact that a terrorist mastermind had just compared him to a fart. Sure, he may not have meant that when he said "silent but deadly," but it was what R.J. heard. As he awoke, he attempted to sit up. The key word, of course, was "attempt" - instead, he curled into the fetal position, the pain almost unbearable. Like his stomach was beginning to cannibalize itself from malnutrition. He turned his head back. Mary-Ann was still fast asleep, snoring like a beast, the announcement apparently not disturbing her in the slightest.

He had to stay strong, for her sake. He couldn't let the pain get to him. Soon enough, he figured, they'd find some real food, and he wouldn't need to worry about himself. He'd be able to focus all his energy on her.

For now, he focused it on just standing up.
<Mimi>: You are much nicer than I thought you'd be!
<Stark>: Shut up, fatty.
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They're Made Out Of Meat · The Felled Forest: North