Characters: Steve & Peggy Where: Alleyway, Wasteland NYC What: It was a long day of hunting for supplies with little success, but a pair of the lonely survivors find they understand each other's methods. When: Day 6; Twilight Rating: PG
Almost a week in this hellish wasteland and little had yet been found. Peggy'd recommended further rationing of the supplies to stretch them as long as possible, even if it meant being weaker during the days they had. They weren't fighting, they didn't need full strength. They would need water in a week when the initial supplies would run out if they didn't ration even further. If anyone stuck to the schedule she recommended, they'd double the length of water and food rations they had. It still wasn't a comfortable way to live.
She'd taken a corner of the make shift map she'd drawn in dirt to herself, saying she would patrol every building, sewer and alleyway she could in that area for any possible supplies. It'd been two days now, though, and she had not a single touch of luck. She was almost done with her little section, now coming back along the border of the place where she knew Captain Rogers and his little crew had decided to stay. She'd ceased to creep along a long time ago, stealth not having proved itself to be necessary and her muscles were low and burning from the lack of sufficient water and food over the week they'd been present.
She carries her pack still, though, and the large door she'd pulled off of the pod she came in and was using as a mix of a shield and a blunt weapon. Peggy's steps were slow but even, not quite a march, but the measured, firm steps that were trained into the military for even the most exhausted of times. Her dark eyes trace down the alley, looking towards the repeated sound of *something* she's hearing. Metal working, perhaps?