BUCK TANNER (rides) wrote in colosseum, @ 2013-12-09 16:18:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! 55th games, - arena, tribute: 55th buck tanner, tribute: 55th laurel lyndon |
Who: Laurel & Buck and Bears - oh my!
When: Day 6
Where: Icy caverns
What: We’re all going on a bear hunt?
Warnings: get your bingo cards ready...
Status: Completed log
They needed food. Mouse’s hunt the other day had proven largely unsuccessful, sadly. He had goat blood, but that was it. The jar of pickled pigs’ feet and beef jerky he’d been so happy with a few days ago were now dwindling far too quickly away. Why the hell couldn’t there have been some food in that crate? He was still the healthiest of his group still, so today Buck had been the one to decide to go off and go exploring. If Mouse had found a goat, he could too. And exertion of energy or not, he thought walking about and keeping circulation up would keep them warmer than sitting still and freezing. He didn’t want to meet his death in silence. He had offered to go to the others, and made it sound like a favor that Iaso could stay back with the wounded Mouse. He thought that was a good idea. They wouldn’t trust him to take care of the Three, and this way he could drag Laurel along instead. Something about leaving her in the care of two other people while he was gone didn’t seem right. They probably wouldn’t do anything. They were allies after all. But if they did choose that moment to turn on her, he would feel badly. He knew these games were all for yourself. He did know that. Laurel just felt like his responsibility now, a second Tallow who he could actually help instead of letting her die. He trudged through the snow along with her now, keeping his eyes out for goats that just weren’t there. “Where the hell are they?” He complained, voice muffled by his scarf. “I want a damn goat.” He also kept a look out for the Two boy, and the people who had attacked Mouse yesterday. He didn’t want a second run in. Not yet. “You okay?” He checked in with Laurel, looking over at her, always a little worried. He had no idea how sick she actually was. Iaso seemed to think she was all right, but Iaso could be lying. “Yep,” Laurel’s response was curt, the usual one that she gave when someone asked her. In truth, she was far from okay. She was aware that infection was setting in, that she’d barely eaten in days and had barely drunk anything. Laurel’s chances of survival were dwindling, but she was determined and focusing on the fact that she was surviving. She was bringing the rest of their group down, and it was with that idea that she agreed to go on Buck’s mission. She could try and practice fighting one-handed again, as her injured hand was still difficult to work with. It was some consolation that Iaso was also wounded. She walked slowly, hands in pocket as she tried to shield herself from the bitter cold. “You okay?” Laurel echoed his question quietly. Maybe she should put a bit more effort in, for his sake. He’d been invaluable so far and she owed him so much. The girl frowned as she walked alongside him. The answer wasn’t a real one. He knew enough to know that, but he respected it. He looked down at her, trying to see the real thing. She just looked cold and pale. They all looked like that, malnourished and dehydrated as they were. He wondered when, exactly, they would succumb to the elements. How long did that take? How many days could they go with the spartan food and water schedule they’d been forced to adopt. He decided not to think about that for now. “I’m good.” He responded, keeping it as light as possible. “I’ll be better once we’ve found food.” That didn’t seem to be likely. “How’s the hand? Iaso’s doing a good job?” He knew it was a questionable thing. He’d examined the stitches on her hand, but he had no idea what good bandages looked like compared to bad. Laurel didn’t know enough about stitches and wounds to give a proper verdict, but she’d already noticed slightly suspect information when Iaso had told her not to change the bandage on her hand. “Hurts less,” she told him, though in truth she thought it was just easier to ignore the pain now that she felt so sick. “Reckon what she said about not changing the bandage is horse shit, though, I seen enough people get cut and know otherwise. Ain’t got a different bandage to use though so just gotta make do,” Laurel frowned. It was a little less cold during what light they had and easier to talk than at night when just opening her mouth to speak made her throat sting. “I ain’t gonna blame her though. Reckon I’d do the same to her.” The girl moved quickly so that she was close to Buck and whatever warmth he might radiate. “You reckon it was a good idea to go with them?” Laurel looked over at Buck, trying to determine if he had trusted her decision or not. Of the three others, he was the one that she wanted to keep on her side as much as possible. “It’s horseshit.” He agreed. Buck knew clean bandages were important. “Wish they’d sent bandages along with iodine.” He spoke it to the sky, wistfully. He winked up at whatever mentor or sponsor might be listening, but it was a fool’s hope. He knew that they were just waiting for them to be resourceful, or die. The iodine tablets had been a wonderful addition. At least they wouldn’t go without water. He didn’t shy away from her stepping closer. Body warmth was good to have in this weather. Buck considered the question and realized he didn’t have a definitive answer yet. “Strength in numbers.” He shrugged. “And they’re smart. It’s good she can heal. But I don’t trust them all the way.” It felt good to say that out loud. He supposed he probably shouldn’t trust Laurel all the way, either. But they’d been together since the very beginning. It was easier. “They’re from the same place. They’d think of each other before us.” That was just good loyalty. It made sense, and he didn’t begrudge them that. He would’ve thought the same, if Tallow was alive. “Yeah,” Laurel agreed. “Like Briscoe. He was from home, so I liked him. Shame he didn’t get to try out his little tricks,” she glanced to Buck. “He could light fires quick, ‘cos of his job back home. I wanted to watch him do it,” she shrugged her shoulders lightly. There was no time for regrets, she had to keep moving. “Anyways, we’re gonna get us a goat. If Mouse ain’t drank all their blood and let ‘em rot yet,” the girl turned to smile briefly at Buck as she walked. The prospect of some real food seemed sweeter than she could quite fathom at that moment, just the idea making her feel less hungry. He hadn’t known that about Briscoe, and he quirked his head now, intrigued. “Did he? I didn’t know that. I would’ve liked to see that.” It was sad, that he was dead. He tried not to think about that too much, and he didn’t let his mind go to Tallow at all. It was better that way. He scanned the area, but he had to blink. He stopped, suddenly on guard.Hidden by some large rocks were two small-ish, furry figures. “Laurel.” He said softly, so as not to startle the things that were almost absolutely not goats. “What are those?” Laurel hesitated, stopping just beside Buck. She narrowed her eyes, trying to see past the rocks but the light was too dim. She gripped the sai a little tighter in her good hand, trying to be ready for whatever could be over there and waiting for them. “Tribute? Animal?” Laurel asked Buck, matching his soft tone and taking her cues from him. “Animal.” He answered almost immediately, he could tell that much. It was enough, apparently, to attract the attention of one of the animals in question. It tilted its head up, sniffing at the air. “Bears? Baby bears.” He decided. Were those dangerous? Could they eat them? He’d never really seen a bear before. Did they normally have that many teeth? “I think they hear us.” He said on an exhale, stepping back very quietly, hoping Laurel would take his cue and do the same. “Get out.” He didn’t really want to mess with these. There was something unnatural in their look that told him they were not to be taken lightly, even if they were only babies. He’d been around enough nature to know that where there were children, a mother was almost always close by. He didn’t particularly want to wait around and see this mother. Laurel had seen a bear before, and knew of some of them in the forests around where she lived. She followed him with the step backwards. “We gotta be careful, in case their ma hears us,” Laurel whispered. Bear cubs would be easier to deal with than a fully-grown animal, which meant almost certain death. But then she looked at them again, paying more attention. “Goddamn,” Laurel breathed. “Those ain’t usual bears, Buck, they can’t be.” To hear it confirmed meant that Buck held his breath a second longer, stepping backwards as slowly as possible. He didn’t think running would work here. That would just make more noise, and attract attention. Too late for that, though. Their ears must’ve been programmed to pick up on softer sounds, because now they’d both perked up and turned to face them. “I think we need to run.” Buck said firmly, louder, now. Both cubs charged forward, and Buck ran back,keeping his spear out. He didn’t throw it. He didn’t want to waste his weapon like that. Laurel turned, anger rising as she started away from the bears. She shouted out at Buck, words that her mother would probably scold her for and call ‘choice’ if she were there to hear it. “I ain’t survived that fuckface career trying to use me as a carving board to get eaten by a fucking baby bear!” She started to run, but the creatures were unnaturally fast and close to her within seconds. Laurel screamed and stumbled as one pounced - bears weren’t supposed to do that - and she struggled to get back to her feet without putting pressure on her wounded hand. Laurel managed to stand, furiously brandishing her weapon at the creature for a few moments before trying to run again. Maybe it would get the message, except this wasn’t a normal animal. It was supposed to attack her, and attack her it did. Buck didn’t really want to get eaten by a baby bear, either. He waited til one was in range, then he stabbed out. It only went into the beast’s shoulder, probably made him angrier. Buck pulled out, and the bear cub leapt. Buck ducked down, and tried to roll away.A claw caught his shoulder, created a long rip in his shirt and an ugly scratch down his back.It wasn’t deep. He’d be fine. Resting in that knowledge, he ran in the other direction, trying to get away from the bears, maybe have a vantage point to stab one again. “Get out!” He yelled at Laurel, trying not to sound panicked. “Just leave!” If she did, he would follow, hopefully. He didn’t like the odds of her facing these bears with one good hand. Granted, he didn’t like his own odds much right now, either. But Laurel was right. They’d worked way too hard to be taken down by baby fucking bears. One of the bear cubs went for her ankles and Laurel screamed, almost throwing her weapon at the creature. She kept hold of it, but the bear lunged at her once again. This time she fell again, landing on her left wrist which twisted awkwardly as the bone broke. Her next scream was of pain, yet more horrible unbearable pain, and she tried to shuffle backwards as hot tears welled up in her eyes. But the creature went for her again, and in her haste Laurel’s head connected with one of the rocks with a sickening crack. She was unconscious within seconds. For a minute he thought surely, Laurel was dead. He waited for the cannon, but there wasn’t one. So she was alive. Well shit. He paused for a second that made his toes curl up in shame. What the fuck was he thinking, considering just leaving her here? He ran to her motionless form, lifted her up over his shoulder and did what he was all too good at these days. Buck ran. Down, away from the mutts, slower now that he was toting someone along too, but he was strong and he didn’t stop until he could hear the growling taper off behind him. To be safe, he ducked under an alcove, shielded by rock and lay down Laurel, breathing far too heavily. He shook her good shoulder unceremoniously. “Laurel.” He panted, voice uneven and breathy. “Come on, wake up. We have to go.” He couldn’t carry her all the way back to camp, but after saving her, he didn’t want to abandon her here, either. Part of himself was afraid that she was in a coma. What the hell would he do then? |