ice slippin | gunner & lucky (day 2)
Feb 29, 2024 13:59:36 GMT -5
Post by mat on Feb 29, 2024 13:59:36 GMT -5
Lucky would rather sleep out in the wilderness than be stuck in the cabin anyday. The generator in the cabin was loud enough to draw anyone's attention to it, and even louder for someone trying to sleep in there. Horrible for sleep but just as horrible for trying to keep a lookout. Lucky relied on his hearing more than Xylia or Gunner did, more than anyone in the arena. Especially in a dark and gloomy arena such as this one.
He sat across the campfire from Gunner in silence. As quiet as Xylia was, with three people around, there was always something to say. If one of them didn't want to talk, the other two could. Lucky found it hard to break through Gunner's shell. He was focused all the time, and whenever he tried to pull a playful smile from him, all he did was offer some snide remark.
Lucky considered them friends, but did Gunner? And if not, was that because Gunner's standards are that high or because Lucky's standards are that low? At home in District Four, within the fences of New Horizons, everyone seemed to be the best of friends. And if they weren't, they were told to fake it with niceties so everyone could get along. There was no way kids like Muffy or Angus would have had any friends otherwise!
The crescent moon in the sky was barely illuminated through the clouds. The campfire was dead, but they had an abundance of warmth from the bloodbath's wealth. Gunner fiddled with something in his hands across from him. For once, not his gun. Lucky got up from his log, tossing his hard hat on top of his bag. He swept across the pit and sat beside Gunner.
Gentle this time. After two days in the arena, Lucky needed at least an evening to recharge that energy. No jokes, no overbearing presence. Just a friend, hanging out with his friend. "What are those?" Lucky pointed at the metal beads dangling over Gunner's hands.
He sat across the campfire from Gunner in silence. As quiet as Xylia was, with three people around, there was always something to say. If one of them didn't want to talk, the other two could. Lucky found it hard to break through Gunner's shell. He was focused all the time, and whenever he tried to pull a playful smile from him, all he did was offer some snide remark.
Lucky considered them friends, but did Gunner? And if not, was that because Gunner's standards are that high or because Lucky's standards are that low? At home in District Four, within the fences of New Horizons, everyone seemed to be the best of friends. And if they weren't, they were told to fake it with niceties so everyone could get along. There was no way kids like Muffy or Angus would have had any friends otherwise!
The crescent moon in the sky was barely illuminated through the clouds. The campfire was dead, but they had an abundance of warmth from the bloodbath's wealth. Gunner fiddled with something in his hands across from him. For once, not his gun. Lucky got up from his log, tossing his hard hat on top of his bag. He swept across the pit and sat beside Gunner.
Gentle this time. After two days in the arena, Lucky needed at least an evening to recharge that energy. No jokes, no overbearing presence. Just a friend, hanging out with his friend. "What are those?" Lucky pointed at the metal beads dangling over Gunner's hands.
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