lost together {the walking dead}
Oct 12, 2014 13:42:17 GMT -5
Post by Python on Oct 12, 2014 13:42:17 GMT -5
Pearl MillisonNavigating through darkness was a challenge she had never hoped to encounter. Once the Cornucopia’s hearth had been doused (by the GMs, no doubt), a black shroud had smothered their vision and enveloped them in total darkness. Fortunately, they had already collected and equipped their supplies beforehand. Barnabas had even managed to stitch himself up with needle and thread, so the risk of infection was greatly reduced. Knowing his skillset, the risk of infection had probably been eliminated completely. He was the one who had helped her brush up on a rusty skill, after all. He knew how to stitch a wound and bandage broken skin as neatly as any career, almost as if it was a daily routine. It was a sensible talent to acquire in his line of work; he was a midwife, a man who cared for women in labor and cradled newborn infants in his arms. It was one of the most endearing qualities in a tribute she had ever seen.
He was a sensitive thing, and that must’ve been why they had warmed up to each other so quickly. It was comforting to know that there was somebody on her side that shared similar qualities, though she still wondered if it was a career’s performance he expected, not the disaster of panicked tears she had delivered during the Bloodbath. She was afraid to ask. She was even more afraid to confront Asa about it. Clearly his relationship with Barnabas reached a greater depth than she could ever hope to understand. They had already been a partnership before her interference. It was a curiosity, but it was also impolite to pry, so she would let it remain a mystery for as long as need be.
It seemed like such an unlikely duo, but they were fond of one another. Pearl was fond of them both.
She tapped the plate of her chest armor to ensure its stability. Shuffles sounded behind her – one of her allies gathering the last of their claimed supplies. ”I can’t see for shit,” Patricia said. They were all in the same boat. Light sources were precious and limited. She had one on hand in case of an emergency (like unexpected sounds of activity) , but the rest were stored away for a later time. No doubt the flashlights would run on disposable batteries with little juice left in them. Torchwood could only be ignited so many times. Maneuvering through this cave would prove difficult and terrifying. The bloodbath itself had been disorienting, and there had even been a beacon of light at the center.
Pitch darkness was different, however. Simply standing in it was unnerving. It left her on edge, fidgeting and pausing every so often to listen for danger. They were finally moving away from the Cornucopia and into the unknown. It’s even scarier that we don’t know what could lie ahead. This was a cavern, so there could be a plethora of hazards around every corner. Pits, jagged rocks, stalactites, cave mutts – especially rats, since she already had a makeshift cloth bandage wrapped around her forearm. It was too dark to see if the bite was still seeping blood, but it wouldn’t matter as long as it didn’t reach infection.
Her fingers touched something cold. She paused and laid her palm flat against it; a wall, probably carved of rock. ”I found a wall,” she whispered, feeling the need to keep her voice down in case of mutts or tributes lingering nearby. ”Should we follow it?”
