when the war came // frankel

Sitting flat on the bank, one leg stretched out in front of him, Keyser would have his right leg bent whilst inspecting his foot. Painted the colour red, his heals would be bloodied and blistered however that wasn’t the problem that was bothering him. The nail on his large toe looked like one of the monsters he had heard float around in the false stories from the wanderers, who had had unfortunately found the presence of. Due to his constant travelling, his foot has taken most of the damage from it but today he has found his medical attention…the ocean.

Having met so many District Six citizens in the past, he has been told that salt water is a good natural method of allowing wounds to heal quicker. Something about them removing the bacteria, which allows the body to do it’s natural healing process. He doesn’t truly understand its method but as long as it does the job, he doesn’t care. Ahead of him, the ocean is in full supply of salt water so it unlikely he will need to amputate his leg due to an infection anytime soon. Letting go of his leg, he’d allow it stretch out next to his other one, while he takes in the view the ocean.

This particular scene is the last one he wants to see before he reaches death. If (and in the unlikely event) of being captured by the peacekeepers, he’d rather be executed on a beach than be sent to the Capitol to lick ass, which he has heard so many tales about. Having grown up surrounded by trees, the ocean is the total opposite of what he has been used too which is why he rarely visits. He would rather surprise himself on the last visit then frequently ruin it. The ocean is an ever changing spectacle; it is never in the same formation each time he sees it…even if this is only his third time. The first time being when he had outran the peacekeepers…again. Throwing himself into the waves, his body fell down into the depths of the water, waiting for the men in armour to depart. Despite never learning to swim whilst living in his District, he sought it a necessity to learn the skill while out wandering in the vast lakes and rivers for it may be a life saver in the future. He wouldn’t have deceived the peacekeepers as many times as he has, if hadn’t picked up particular new skills…

Removing his shoe from his other foot, he’d pull his body off of the cool sand, rising to his bare feet. Swinging the backpack full of his resources over his shoulder, he’d begin his march towards the ocean, the shoes carried in his right hand. Wrapped up in dark trousers and a dark green coat, which he had acquired from the bodies of men that no longer need it, the feel of the dead end of winter is still prominent as the ocean’s chill attacks his face.

Slowly walking down the embankment, he’d make sure his footing is steady, not wanting to end up flying down the steep slope. Approaching the bottom of the bank, alarm bells would signal as a figure grows large in his sight…a woman, situated next to a crate…supplies. She doesn’t look like a peacekeeper due to obviously missing the white armour although he has seen many undercover in the past. However why would a peacekeeper be undercover by herself on the beach?

Wary he’d continue to walk up to her, looking down at the locked up equipment that sits in the sand. ”Quite a treasury you’ve got here?” His eyes fixed on the crate, hoping that it contains valuables, worthy of his cause.

Remaining on the crates besides the woman, his eyes are fixed on the exterior, wondering what is hidden within the interior. Hopefully medicines, those that are much more reliable than that of the natural methods of the ocean. Although even if it was just food and random pieces of items, they’re still worthy resources that he needs. Scavenging the Districts for everything that he needs, stumbling upon such win like this one, will help him remove a couple of days work of gathering goods. However hauling around such a crate will slow down his travels and he doesn’t plan on staying at the beach for any longer than he needs too.

Moving his vision from the crate to the woman, he’d a plan a way on obtaining the items that are hidden within. Although his eyes meet with the syringe, hidden within the woman’s grip, likely there to use as a weapon. Do I really look that threatening, even with a blistered foot? Marching across his face, a smirk would present itself for a split second due to his thought before changing into a neutral expression. If she is psychotic enough to attack him with the syringe, his only line of defence is to throw a shoe at her. Even though it sounds as comical as it does, he knows it will not be highly effective so he must find another way to get his hands on the contents of her belongings…maybe his wit will play well in this situation.

Rarely when he encounters someone, does he have a good time. Mostly, the wanderers who step into his path are of those of a psychotic nature, who want to tear every piece of item form his body…down to his underwear, although they have never had the chance. Keyser always has a way to get out of such scenarios cleanly and he usually ends up being the one who strips the items from the opposition’s body. The clothes he wears aren’t those that he wore the day he fled from the big house in Seven, for it was ten years ago and his body has certainly changed since. The only item that has remained with him in his travels is his backpack, which is currently gripping tight to his back. Although he learned that stealing items from everyone that he met was not always in his favour, most of the valuable things that he sought were inside people’s minds…information. Information on the whereabouts of the peackeepers, information on what was happening in the Districts, little items that are just as precious as medical supplies.

"Is it infected? I can help." Glancing down at his swollen foot that rests inches from the sand, he’d grow wary of her question. He’d rather not have a stranger treating his foot, especially while being in such a vulnerable state. Moving his eyes back to the crate, he’d contemplate on what to do as he looks back to the woman. A blonde haired woman, who looks like she is in a clean bit of health. Either she has only just stumbled far from her home or she has been looking after herself well. She could be a good asset in his travels, another piece of information to hold… ”I’d rather have whatever items you have that could possibly treat this…it’s only a blister after all. I am not asking for everything…” …not yet anyway… ”…I’d rather just treat it myself.” Remaining stood, he’d wait for the woman to respond, hoping she’d comply for her own sake.

There’s never been a time in Keyser’s life where somebody has cared, where somebody has asked how he is doing, that’s probably why he is like he is. Despite having half a dozen siblings, not one of them ever bothered to acknowledge him. He did try to gain their attention, it’s just he was different to them. Life amongst the trees in Seven was not for him, Keyser had greater ambitions although his family hid him away from ever pursuing them. Literally confining him indoors and throwing away the key, not allowing him to ever escape. But he did and he has never thought about returning home.

However the wanderer life wasn’t at all what he thought it would be like; after all he is still surrounded by the trees that he tried his best to run away from. Wherever he goes, he is reminded of his home and it makes him want to forget about it even more. Talk of his nieces and nephews have filled the forests many times, especially when he ventured too close to the Seven’s border. Something about one of his nieces being reaped but he doesn’t care. The child was likely still crawling when he fled. He knows too well that they don’t care about his whereabouts so why should he ever have their children on his mind?

Within the entire ten years of being out in the wilderness, people have actually begun to acknowledge him.Many fear him, obey him,leave him alone and sometimes try to throw him into the back of a truck but he has deceived so many people. So many of them, wrapped around each of his fingers, relying on him for support. Yet he rarely ever pays his end of the deal, for he wouldn’t have survived this long if he had been scratching people’s backs, just because they had scratched his. This is a cruel unfair world and Keyser must adapt to be like it.

“I can’t do that.” The words attack his ears like daggers, disappointment swarming his body. Turning to the ocean, he debates in his mind on what to do instantly. He could just treat his foot in the sea salt and not waste his time with this woman. But she is hauling around possible valuables, he can’t let go of such gold after being so close to it. Having spotted the syringe between the woman’s fingers, he knows too well that she is prepared for an attack. He could easily take her out, especially if he gets to the pocket knife which sits zipped up in the top of his backpack. But physical persuasion is certainly out of the equation, if this woman is capable of obtaining such items, she must be able to obtain more…more for him. She can become another asset in his key of survival and the other thing that he wants to conquer.

Gripping hold of the shoes, the cold from the ocean begins to attack his bare feet. The craving for warmth tries to take over his mind, yet he fights it. Many times in Seven, he has endured colder temperatures than this. Soon the miracles of Spring will arrive and the coat that hugs his body, will no longer be needed until Autumn rolls in. Spring is the best time of the year, more resources available…more pieces of information to pluck out.

”Who are you?” Looking back down to the woman, he sees the wet glacier painted on her eyes. Is she crying? The emotion in her words confirms his thought as it sounds shaky to him. Holding back a chuckle, Keyser pity’s the pathetic looking woman in his mind, questioning if he should actually execute the physical persuasion. But he waits, he waits to analyse the usefulness of her, to him. ”I am just like any other District run away, with a name that will likely get forgotten. It’s Keyser and are you going to help me treat this blister or are you going to waste my time even further?”