the reaper ; {denali/mackenzie} blitz

all our times have come
here but now they're gone
seasons don't fear the reaper
nor do the wind, the sun or the rain

These were the dark times. They had come before and they would come again. Embraced or feared, it was all the same, but certain nonetheless. The reaper would come and have his fun, but Mackenzie willed the fight to come sooner rather than later. The days when the animal called Death grew tired of being fed and finally decided to hunt. The days when the immune became the sick and shadows plagued this Capitol city full of light.

He'd given his light away; he still wanted it back.

He stood silent in front of a dying girl. Maybe dying. Presumed as such. Poor thing may not have even realized it yet. Slick metal of a knife in her seemingly capable hands; people like her worried him. People like her were the ones who could've gone and done something as crazy as survive this thing if he didn't intervene somehow. Friends close, enemies closer. Lex needed someone on her side anyway; never mind how much Denali looked like Zion. Mackenzie's tragedy was not his own. It was everyone else's. He was content with closing off the parts of himself that were afraid of even speaking to this girl if it meant an increased chance of keeping one of his mentees alive.

It was the first step of fighting back, taking a swing.

"You know, a year ago, I taught your brother how to hold a hatchet."

He blinked away memories of a frightened now-dead boy; Denali was here and she was still alive. He picked a single blade out of her pack and held it up to the light.

"You prefer the knife?"