Ma¥be It’s :Not: So βad After Λll {S/H}

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You can understand dependence
When you know the maker's land
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As Storm carried Heron into what looked like a mini mushroom forest, his mind kept reeling at what they had just managed to escape from. Another fight, just the two of them working together. Storm knew that they must have done something right to have been able to escape from the fight against Winona, but every attack he had made on Winona felt wrong. He had tried to convince himself that Winona was just another tribute in the way, that it was his duty to help Heron no matter the circumstances. He wasn’t the most persuasive person out there, but he had been so sure that he had managed to suppress his guilt, he was caught off-guard when a wave of nausea hit him.

Only two deaths…that means that there are 5 others besides me and Heron. And it’s only day…crap, have I really forgotten the day? Why didn’t I think of some way to keep track? He held on to Heron tightly as he did his calculations, afraid of what he would have to calculate the next day. Heron was still in a horrible condition, even though the wound seemed to be less on her mind as the days went by. After the fight, Storm had resumed carrying Heron in a more comfortable manner than as he had when they were fighting Winona. For some reason, it was just easier for him when the weight was at the front. Then there was also the fear that Heron was more vulnerable if Storm could not check in with her every now and then.

Another wave of nausea hit him and he knew that there was no way that he could suppress it that time. “Heron, I have to—“ Before he could finish his sentence, he dropped the injured girl and ran over a little distance away before falling to all fours and vomiting. As Winona’s death played in his head over and over again, his urge to upchuck grew. Then the scene of Ana’s death merged in, becoming a nightmare that only occurred during the day. Holding it was no longer an option as Storm spewed out what looked more liquid than solid, a reminder that he needed to get some food into his stomach. As he sat on his knees, waiting for the nausea to get past, he realized that his hands were shaking. He had been holding on to Heron so tightly that he had neglected to notice how shaky his whole body was. At that point, food became a necessity.

He wiped his mouth clean, unsure of what else to do in the absence of a water source, and walked back to Heron. How could he have dropped her like that? It made sense (it would be rather rude to let it out on her), but the least he could have done was be more courteous, especially to the girl who was placed in his care. Not sure that he could continue carrying her though, he sat down beside her and supported her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered while looking away from her. He was sorry that he had dropped her so suddenly, but he also felt guilt for everything she had to go through. How easily they could have avoided this whole thing if they had taken another path down the volcano, if they had managed to avoid the other tributes. Instead, they were just there, tired and sick. Or at least Storm was feeling the latter. Not only did he take her through all that, he had failed to satiate her hunger for the past few days. He had promised her that they would find something, anything, but there was nothing around. Only water.

How could there— Storm’s eyes picked up on something he vaguely recognized but could not be certain about. Was it really…food? “Hold on, I’ll be right back,” he muttered as he stood up and walked over to what he was sure was edible plants. Of course, he didn’t want to make the same mistake that nearly happened in the forest. It looked safe enough to touch, but was it safe enough to eat? He grabbed a handful, ignoring the fact that the goo itself could be poisonous and brought it back to Heron, just to make sure. “Do you think…that maybe…we could eat this?”