frost peaches make much better eyes☃️🍑 the imposters day 2
Oct 28, 2020 19:58:32 GMT -5
Post by 𝓂𝒶𝒽𝑜𝓊𝒽𝑜🕊 on Oct 28, 2020 19:58:32 GMT -5
"These woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And
miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep."
"I’m starting to think this is our thing” my raspy huffs past Neysa’s ear, arms scooping from under her shoulder blades and tugging the weakened tribute carefully over ice. I continued as my feet strategically shuffled across ice while Apricot followed alongside. He did that silly jog dogs do when they’re unsure what's going on, but know when something is over. “You know, me dragging you around everywhere then patching you up.” The husky mutt had danced by my abandoned sled, cranberry dipped paws leaving place mat marks for me to follow, tail sprinkling sugared snowflakes atop our supplies. I leaned Neysa against the tree nearby, once off the ice, and then flopped over into the snow mound next to her. A defeated plop sounded from the solidified thin ice that made my body concave into my own little grave, with ground coffee coils spindling out from my hood and onto the surrounding snow. “This is why we can’t ice skate” I sighed, clouded heat erupting from my lips like a depressed volcano. “Because these fucking mutts ruin everything.”
Kicking my leg towards the deceased engrossed mutt in annoyance, I rolled over to watch the bleeding tribute in front of me. It only had been one day, but we had already established a routine. We get fucked up, but in the career kinda way, not the fun kind for others. Neysa surprises me somehow whether it be her audacity or her talent of finesse, then do dumb shit. Part of me wonders if Cricket would be too happy with this role, if either of us weren’t taking this seriously enough. But I was tortured already for a lifetime it seemed in snow, I’m not eager to jump into it again just yet. Scooping some snow into my bare hand, I pressed it against the wound in an effort to alleviate the pain, albeit it a half-assed one. My fingertips retracted with scarlet jam from the girl from Eleven, and I sat up, knowing what to do. Flakes dripping from my curls, my exposed hand slid against the roots and shook off more residue as I stood up. “Come on Eleven, let’s get you patched up.”
I help her as I had done the day before, handing her supplies and sewing up the closures of her wound. Neysa couldn’t hide the pain as easily this time, and once done I couldn’t help but smirk and pat her stomach lightly. It earned a whine, Neysa smacking my extended arm away and choosing to stand up on her own. Having remembered the camera was still rolling, I strolled over lazily then shut the camcorder. “Looks like this is our first official memory.” The camcorder careened her way after my booted sole dug into the snow, spinning around then striding into the surrounding area, avoiding the lake for now. “But I’ve got a better one in mind.”
Upon finding a decent clearing full of snow, I crouched down, fingers cupping snow into a mound. My single exposed right stung momentarily as I pushed the mound to grow, eventually becoming acquainted with the numbness. “Have you ever made a snowman?” I probably looked ridiculous as asked, rolling the ball until it slowly grew to the height of my shins. “Its something my dad showed me back in Two, and a lot more fun than walking on ice with a broken foot.”