Who: Lara Croft What: Wolves and wolf traps Where: Dream!Yamatai Island When: While asleep! Status: complete Rating: PG-13 for violence
Things were steadily going from bad to worse. Lara had found Sam, and then there'd been another survivor from an earlier wreck. Only she'd lost consciousness and when she woke up they were both gone. A new sort of panic filled her chest as she envisioned all sorts of horrible things happening to her friend, and in her panic she stepped right into an old wolf trap.
It hurt like hell, but was old, and lacked any teeth. The only thing that saved her life when the wolves came was the bow she’d found on a desiccated corpse. She’d used it to hunt already, and she was a pretty decent shot. Now she had her chance to fire under stress. She heard the wolves before she saw the movement in the bushes. Heart pounding in her chest, she lifted her bow as the first of the creatures lept into view. She buried an arrow into it’s throat and was knocking the next as another charged at her. She wanted to scream in panic, but instead she kept her focus - three wolves, three arrows, and if there was more to the pack they didn’t come for her.
Gasping she tried to pry the trap open, her ankle throbbing in pain and her stomach and back renewing their protests from earlier. She heard movement again, and voices and her hand reached for the bow before she recognized them. Reyes! Oh thank god.
It was a short reunion, and they split off to try to locate Sam and meet up with Roth. Lara limped for a bit before she felt like she could put her weight on her leg again. She didn’t want to think about the bruise, and she wondered why that was of more concern than the puncture wound that was still oozing out of her stomach and back.
Right now, if she could just find Roth and Sam, and then they could figure out how to get help… that’s what she wanted, and that’s what she focused on. Not the fact that she was stuck with Whitman, who was a pompous ass. The man knew his stuff, but he lacked utter personality.
She couldn’t entirely fault him when they located the wall full of paintings, and the makeshift door. She wanted to gush too - to look and study and sketch everything she saw. But right now she was more concerned with getting past this obstacle and finding her friends.
Lara had picked up a makeshift hand axe earlier in the evening, and she reinforced it with some scrap metal. With it, they were able to move a gear and lift a giant door that led up to a mountain village - only to be swarmed by armed men and captured because Whitman was stupid enough to surrender.