{ Who } The brothers Laurent. { What } Enduring the cold. { When } Wednesday night. { Where } Their tent. { Rating } PG for probable language. { Status } In Progress.
This weather was going to be the death of him, he was sure of it.
Of the twins, Rémy had never been the more outdoorsy or resilient one. He hated camping, and was most comfortable with nature when it was on his workstation, being stitched together and posed with wire armature. Thus, the more the temperatures dropped, the more miserable he became; he wasn't sure how any of these people managed to live in such primitive conditions and be satisfied with them. Despite putting on every warm item of clothing he could get his hands on and spending every spare moment beneath an assortment of heavy blankets, Rémy had caught a cold and had spent the last day shivering, sniffling, and suffering a migraine as he struggled to cope with his trying new lifestyle.
He was curled up on his cot, whimpering under a stack of warm blankets that didn't seem to be doing much of anything for him, when his brother returned.