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T-Fox
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N-Nopony! Ah was talkin' to nopony whatsoever!
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
((Peter McCue continued from Even the Best Fall Down Sometimes.))

It had been one hell of a night. One hell of a day for that matter. After leaving their campsite up in the mountain, his little... distraction... had caused him to forget which way they were facing. Again. And they had gotten lost. Again. Not as dramatically so as the first time, but it had taken them a good two or three hours more than it really should have to get safely down the mountain, and actually end up on the right god damned side of it. So, that trek through the felled forest to the logging road was starting waay too late. Thankfully he had gotten his bearings before leaving the high ground, but unfortunately one he had made it back down to sea level he couldn't exactly see the logging road any more. Or the sawmill for that matter. So, it was just a matter of keep fording north, through the sea of stumps.

It really reminded him of back when the trio had first emerged from the tunnels... He wondered where Max was now. He hadn't heard his name on the announcements... In either facet. Still, that didn't mean he was okay per-se.

Peter just really regretted scaring him off like that.

So, the two had eventually made camp among the branches and stumps. Nothing fancy. They weren't on a phalanx anymore, they had no natural cover. No campfire tonight. That would attract attention like moths to a flame. Just a single sleeping bag, just like the night before. Thankfully, it had only taken Peter about an hour to fall asleep this time, unlike back up on the mountain. This time, he even felt comfortable enough to wrap an arm around her... Long after it was safe, once she had fallen deep asleep. Obviously.

It's not like he had any reason to be confident or anything.

---[Transition to Day 7]---

Morning, and another greeting from the most hated son of a bitch on the island! Really, that was the worst thing in the world he could envision waking up to... When he finally got off of this rock and went off to College, he was going to set his fucking alarm to go off with a recording from the televised version... That would wake him up really damn quick. Now that's one way to use PTSD to your advantage.

"You'll be very happy indeed to hear that in a few short hours, you'll have officially have survived until the halfway mark of the game. That's provided, of course, that you aren't one of the three unlucky souls that have to die for you all to reach that point. Keep it up folks, I can't tell you how proud I am of your spirit."

So, half of the Bayview Secondary School class of '08 lay dead. He shook his head as he groggily pushed himself up in the sleeping bag, tugging the fabric up, stretching it just a little as Katlin laid in place, at least for the moment. In a way, he almost felt a little tinge of pride. He had made it for an entire week, he had outlasted 135 of his fellow classmates. But at the same time, the moment that the fraction of a thought had passed, he suddenly felt an urge to cry. To mourn for everyone who had made it to a (much) better place, and left them all behind.

Breakfast was quick that morning. No cute little bunny to feed them. Just what was literally left of the last loaf of bread, and a couple swallows of water. It didn't look like Katlin was faring any better either.

Whatever. They could deal with food later. It was time to move.

And move they did. Packing up the sleeping bag and slinging it back into the big blue hiking sack, which was now sagging and collapsed, over half of it's original contents now replaced with air. Oh, how he wished he hadn't ditched the day pack he was given by the terrorists. It would be so much less awkward to use right about now...

The next hour or so was extremely uneventful, and every so often he would find himself expelling that precious energy that his loaf of bread had given him needlessly by jumping from stump to stump, or some other equally frivilous and childish act. This was driving him up a wall. Generally when he went hiking, it was for so much less time than this... For the first time in his life, Peter could pretty much safely say that he was sick of the outdoors himself. He wanted nothing more than a nice warm shower, and his comfy bed waiting for him back home... His room... God damn it, his DS even.

After what felt like another eternity of just walking, checking his bearings, and then walking some more... Maybe an adjustment for his own human error, a figure popped up over the horizon. At the very least one. Honestly, they were so far off that he could barely tell what he was looking at.

They were all out in the open. All three... or four of them. He seriously thought there was a fourth person over there, but his eyes were playing tricks on him... Stupid fucking glasses...

But yeah. He could see them. No telling if they saw him or not, but they could quite easily spot him if they found themselves so inclined to look this way. But at the same time... Yelling over was a bad idea.

He held up a hand, holding an outstretched finger over his mouth. He then crouched among the stumps, and motioned for Katlin to do the same. And then he waited, to see what the others would do, mentally berating himself for letting it have come to this. So paranoid about his peers from just a week ago that he was hiding like this just at the sight of someone else... Usually it took one of the less savory sports kids to get this reaction out of him.

Please be friendly... Please be friendly...

Yeah, there were definitely two people over there.
Edited by T-Fox, Mar 14 2011, 12:50 AM.
Coming soon to a deathmatch near you:
Garry Brooks - Swave Countryboy
Jade Aurora - Tomboy Drummer
Jasmine Tolle - Pacifistiic Artist

Memories of those past:
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What is wrong with you people?!
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Endings & Beginnings · The Felled Forest: South