Through Silent Woods [LBL RE thread (day 2)]

Ellexias Verisity

A severe risk of hypothermia drew her closer to her allies in the night, long after the anthem had faded. It was practical to share body heat in this weather, because the most likely cause of death in these conditions was not murder or starvation, it was freezing. There was also a high risk of frostbite, and she was suddenly very grateful for the socks, boots, and gloves she had snatched up at the Cornucopia. Even if it had cost other people’s lives, the ounce of comfort the cloths brought felt worth it. There was only so much relief to be cherished in such a white, desolate landscape. Her hands and feet were warm but the rest of her continued to shiver, the cold seeping through every exposed pore. Sitting in the snow made it worse. It was damp, and the thermal pants that hugged her skin didn’t feel secure enough.

Sleep didn’t settle easy when one’s bones constantly shuddered. She tugged her beanie over her eyes and rested her cheek against a makeshift pillow. The medical kits inside prodded her temple like rocks inside a pillow case, but the snow was an unfavorable alternative. She scooted as close to her allies as they would allow, which was quite a bit given their discomforting circumstances. Preserving heat was the priority, even more so than sleeping. Ellexias couldn’t imagine catching anything more than a few hours. There were too many distractions; the howling wind, the possibility of lurking predators, and the bitter, bitter cold.

She didn’t keep track of her hours. It was practically impossible with amount of fading in and out of light slumber, gaze darting to the sky every now and then to find traces of incoming sunlight. She didn’t feel tired when she sat up and dusted the frost off of her clothes – she just felt cold and alert. She wanted to move. The orange radiance strewn across a white horizon perplexed her. Such a deadly place could harbor such beauty, and it transfixed her – until Katelyn stirred and snapped her back into reality. It was time to start moving. They would need to forage for food and water; the apple in her bag wasn’t enough. The thought of it made her salivate.

She nudged Marchello with a gloved hand. ”Time to get up,” she started softly. The lack of response prompted her to nudge him with more force. He budged but didn’t wake, his body like putty against the snow. ”Marchello.” She said it sternly. No reply. Nonchalantly, she grabbed a fistful of snow and trickled it above his face. Perhaps it was a bit cruel, but time was of the essence. It shouldn’t be spent loitering. Death from lack pf productivity was an avoidable one.

His disgruntled muttering was lost to her ears. She adjusted her protective gear, hoisted her bag up, and waited for them to all agree on a general direction. They decided to head for the line of trees. It wasn’t much of a buffer from the harsh weather, but there was some amount of cover. Miniscule, yet impressive. She had never seen trees reach such staggering heights. It felt as if she were surrounded by towers – natural towers, not the architect back in the Capitol. Then again, an argument could be made against how “natural” this forest was. It was all a design, after all.

They ventured into a clearing of sorts, and she worried for a moment that it was a trap. But it remained silent, save for the wind whistling in her ears. There was a wooden shrine, and that was all. It was dedicated to President Snow, as if he deserved his own religion. A joke, in her opinion. Did they expect tributes to make offerings?

Perhaps since he was watching, that would be their wisest choice.

She watched Marchello patiently, unquestioning of his judgment. An egg was neither creative nor appraising, but who would want to give up valuable supplies? It was illogical.

As she stepped up to the framed portrait, she decided to offer him words. She knelt and folded her hands together in a traditional prayer. ”I pray for your good health,” she said aloud. The next portion she whispered. ”May you live as long as I do.”