thearena | Turn the White Snow Red as Strawberries in Summertime [Closed]

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Turn the White Snow Red as Strawberries in Summertime [Closed]

WHO| Venus, Phillip, Jet, Albert and Sam Wilson
WHAT| V gets patched up.
WHEN| After the cats attack.
WHERE| Near the lake.
WARNINGS| Gore.

Venus wakes up in the snow. At first she thinks it must be a mistake, because she's found herself a little cave near the lake to spend her nights hunkered down in, and she usually rouses from being curled into a tight ball, her neck and spine aching from the tension in her muscles, as opposed to how she wakes now, face-up with snowflakes melting on her cheeks. Her lips feel numb, but she presumes that's from the air. The back of her head feels wet, in spite of the parka's hood cradling her.

It's when she realizes that the snow is pink, that it looks like a puddle of half-melted cherry snow cone around her, that she understands that she passed out from blood loss. Her parka is in tatters, her stomach to her pelvis a battleground of black-blooded lacerations. She vaguely remembers the events leading up to this moment - fighting with a wildcat the size of a bear, hitting it in the teeth with a branch hard enough to knock the monstrous canine out, taking a hit to the stomach that she didn't feel because of the adrenalin, scrambling up a rock face to get away and then collapsing here on a snowy ledge, not far from her hideout.

Her eyelashes flutter, batting away some more flakes before they melt. She breathes heavily and decides not to get up yet.

A Sponsor package, its little signal light blinking, sits in the snow next to her, sunk an inch in.

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Phillip had avoided direct confrontation with the smilodons on principle, especially after seeing some of the carnage they left in their wake. They were far more than he and his knife could handle. So he'd spent his time on the Arena fishing and hunting whatever small game he could find while avoiding any other tributes. His Sponsor gifts served him well, the parka and winter set kept him warm along the treks he took. By the second week, Phil had taken well the lessons to survive as best he could...and yet...

Gray didn't intend to return to Venus' hideout, at least not as his rational brain was telling him to. Maybe she's not there, Phil told himself, She's probably moved on to higher ground. He couldn't let anything cloud his mind, he had to keep going. Maybe following her would make this easier-

The trail of red snow startled him. Rather than kill the ailing, Phil sheathed his knife and followed it towards the ledge. What he found made him in the landing gasp in horror, "VENUS!" He did his best to rush over to her aid. "Venus, shit, what happened?!"

She doesn't know who's yelling at her, and it seems an awful lot of effort to open her eyes to find out. She exhales deep, groaning as it sends a shot of pain up from the laceration that seem to have wound unhappy roots up into her chest and down her legs.

"Don't look now," she murmurs. "I think I'm bleeding."

The world seems hazy when she opens her eyes, a blur of white, and for an instant she wonders if she's on a surgical table. Or waking up in the hospital again, like she did as a teenager.

"Phillip?"

"Yeah, it's me, Vee," Phil doesn't want to move her, for fear of broken bones or anything but his mind is on overdrive. Half his brain wants to comfort Venus, and tell her everything's all right but the other half is already trying to keep focus. He removed his gloves and placed his hands on her face, "I need you to look and t-talk to me okay? Don't go to sleep." His eyes met hers, fear and determination mingling in them. "Did you have a group with you? Are you with someone else that can help you?"

That was step 1, he remembered from the simulations way back when they met: keep the subject active and conscious. Step 2 was a little harder as it involved proper examination of the wounds. Boy howdy, that giant cat did a number of Venus the likes of which he'd only seen in Italian horror movies. The majority of the damage was around her torso, meaning he'd need to irrigate and suture her wounds as soon as possible. Who knows what rotten meat that smilodon had in its' mouth before it attacked her?

"You're gonna tolerate me ramble for a bit, all right? Right," Phil began, "Do you have vodka?" He'd recently gotten a fire-starting kit but cauterization by a complete newbie would kill her. "I need to wash my hands with alcohol..." He searched around the area, tracing his fingertips around the wounds. He blushed slightly at the touch, "S-Sorry." He was a little embarrassed to be doing this if for a moment. "Yeah, I'm gonna need those names fast..."

"I'm not sleeping." She seems unable to drag her mind out of the trap of thinking that she's in a hospital; she almost asks him not to give her ether, that she can stay awake but he has to tell the doctor not to use anesthetic. His hands feel hot against her cheeks, which seems lighter and purplish for lack of blood. "No one's with me. Wildcat..."

A massive sabre-toothed tiger like the one Maximus kept as a pet. She realizes with pain that rushes from her chest outwards how much she wants Maximus at her side right now, to lay her down with a hero's honor and a warrior's code.

"Vodka's in the hideout. Didn't drink any." Her stomach instinctively convulses when he tries to touch her, not out of pain but from shyness, some sense of feminine shame, of a man touching her instead of just looking.

At that convulsion, Gray immediately apologized and removed his hands, now covered in Venus' blood. "D-don't worry, y-you can slap me later." Humor was something they'd bonded over, why not now?

The vodka eased his mind a little and nodded, "I'll be right back...crap, I need a first aid, suturing..." His skills on that weren't great during the simulations but they got the job done. To use it on human flesh was an entirely new and terrifying concept to think about, let alone doing it on someone he cared about. One wrong move and he punctures a vein and game over. Wait what was that part about caring about her? Of course he cared about Vee, she was his Mentor of sorts! Without her, Phil would've died the first week!

To see Milo so broken and vulnerable, Phil worked as fast and best as he could to wash his hands and get to work. "I'm gonna feel again...probably gonna use melted snow to clear out. Alcohol's too harsh and your wounds are fresh...Any Tributes you can trust? Say the name and I'll take you to that person." His hands are still warm against her body, and the former guard does his best to will away the feelings of inadequacy he felt towards her.

"Don't think I won't." Her eyes stay unfocused, and the world stays white and glowing as if it's trying to crawl into her eyes and fill her skull with light.

"Wyatt Earp," she murmurs. "Maximus."

And that wrench in her chest comes again when she remembers they aren't here. Pain, dizziness, blood loss - she can't tell, but her memory feels like it's in smears. Time seems stirred into swirls instead of linear. Only two deaths, Kankri's and Ellie's, stand out as definitive stakes in the earth of her mind. "Uh. Thierry Joly. Sam Wilson. Albert Heinri- nggh. Jet Link."

"Sam Wilson, Jet Link, and Albert Heinrich is it?" Phil recognized the inevitable shock Venus would be experiencing. "Venus, open your eyes, please," that may have sounded like a beg but it was all he could do while he applied pressure in the smaller wounds. That managed to stop some of the critical bleeding, letting him focus on pinching and patching the large wounds as best as he could with whatever Venus had in her camp.

"Tell me about them, tell me everything you know about them," the guard requested, returning to his usual charm as best as he could. "Where did you last see them?" He'd be carrying her all the way to the nearest one and staying by her side every step of the way. Milo gave him a hearth for him to recover from what he'd done...Spotting the Sponsor packet gave Phil an idea and he pried that little bastard open to get anything he could from it.

"I owe you a buck head for this," he said and peeked into the package. The deluxe medical kit was a literal godsend and Gray uttered a thank you to the sky. NOW he could definitely get her patched up and ready. "Kill me later if I don't come back with Bambi's head." Not the nicest thing to come out of his mouth but hey, it works.

[[let me know if you want something changed!

"And Thierry Joly. He's a medical student..." But she doesn't even know if he's still alive, hasn't seen him yet this Arena. She realizes she doesn't know how many people the wildcats killed. "Albert and Jet are in the trees, they're the two cyborgs who got married, white hair and grey eyes and reddish hair and a big nose...Sam- I don't know where Sam is. He's in the Air Force and we kissed at a party..."

She forces her eyes open, although whether she's actually taking in anything she sees is a separate question. She's far away in her head.

"I hate that movie," she says. Her voice sounds thick with tears that have nothing to do with pain. "Fucking- dead parent movies."

"Joly, all right. Two married cyborgs that haunt the canopy and-" As soon as Phil got the surgical thread in the needle, he was thankful the cold probably numbed Venus' skin enough to be somewhat an anesthetic. Little details help, the former guard smiled at that thought and the thought of meeting such people in the immediate future. When she mentioned the kiss with Sam, Gray felt his heart drop all the way to the floor. Oh...she's with someone, he thought almost disheartedly...of course she was with someone. What chance did he, a pizzeria guard with insomnia, night terrors, and probable hallucinations, have with the likes of say Captain freaking America?

Focus! Phil could hear Jeremy Fitzgerald, of all people, snap at him, exposed skull and all. Maybe Gray wasn't able to do anything to save Jeremy then...but now he could do something for someone he truly cared about. "Must've been a good kiss for you to remember," he teased a little, making sure Venus kept her hope alive. Irrigate, pinch, suture, clean, that was the simulation replaying in his head, and he was doing as best a job as he could've given the circumstamces.

Any tears Phil saw on her face would be gently wiped, letting her see his face, "Bad choice of movie..." It didnt take a psychology degree to know why Venus said that. "I'm so sorry for your loss." He truly was. Then a thought, "If we get outta here, we should, uh, watch some B-movie. I mean, we already live in one. But you hafta promise me, Venus, you make sure you give this Arena your all. You need to live." The last four words slipped as heartfelt and hopeful, to snap her out of her daze.

"It was okay." She doesn't seem to react to the pain of the needle making its ritual dives into her broken flesh at all, except when Phil has to get lower, to where the wounds dovetail under the bumpy line where her underwear band has left an imprint on her skin.

"I love shitty movies. I was an extra in a few, you know." It finally clicks that she needs to keep herself talking, otherwise she's going to go under and won't come to. She supposes there are worse things, but she doesn't want to disappoint Phil. He's trying hard enough to stabilize her that she feels as if letting him down would be a critical blow to his self-esteem.

And so she tries, feeling like someone struggling for air while drowning.

The reaction made Phil realize just where his hand landed. Even through the chill, Vee's skin felt soft against his fingertips as he performed his routine. In his eyes, Venus lived up to her name and more. He dared not to take any more time than he needed as he finished the last emergency suture on the largest wound. The simulator might've given him an average for his sloppy technique but it was enough to save a life.

Phil flinched when he remembered what Dandy told him as he laid dying: he was prolonging her suffering in the arena. That all he did was delay the inevitable and it would be for nothing. Gray knew he probably lost any fans he had by helping one of the best from rival Districts. But in a selfish wish that went unspoken, Phil just wanted to see his patient smile and laugh again. She needs someone stronger, he thought, and he was more than fine with that if it assured Venus survived to the next week.

"A star and a model? A queen of all trades, huh?" the guard chuckled now, bandaging the sutures up from the elements, "Here's hoping the Capitol has some of your movies on stock. Monster flicks? Or Romance?"

As soon as he was done with the first aid, Phil gave her the good news, "You should be good to travel and there's activity n-nearby so we should be good. Now to find Sam and he'll fix you up in a jiffy, okay?"

Edited 2015-02-14 08:06 (UTC)

"And a recording contract. Think of the trashiest, lowest-budget-" she winces and grits her teeth before continuing, "TV-movie and you'll see what I extra'd in. Then I got a spot on the biggest superhero reality TV team and the world was my oyster..."

"Okay. Go find Sam." She exhales deep and all the tension seems to go out of her face as she rests her head against the snow again, tilting her nose to the side so that the snot of tears can drain out. Then she sits up, and her vision blacks out for a moment as her lowered blood pressure makes lightheadedness an inevitability. "I'll be fine. I'll crawl over to my stuff."

"Superhero reality TV team? Are you serious? Huh, guess that whole Real World crap did take off," Phil laughed before leaving his scarf with her. "Don't push yourself too hard, Milo. Y-you might have been a superhero in some other time, but here? Nope."

With that, the guard did his damnedest to get out of the safe spot and back into the Arena as best he could. Okay, she's safe, now think Sam, Joly and the cyborg married couple... He'd be lying if he said that the following thoughts didn't come to mind, to either cope or just plain curious. First, can cyborgs get married? Well technically yes, especially if they had free will. Second thought: wow, the Capitol really picked a medical student to be a tribute instead of, say, medical staff. The third thought, he was curious to know a little about Sam Wilson. Was he a superhero too?

Either way, Gray was running around the Arena as fast as he could, trying to spot anyone that matched the description, occasionally calling out their names and steering the hell away from patches of red snow.

Sam's barely patched up from his own encounter with the giant cats, but he's out checking his traps anyway. He's stitched up and bandaged and in clean clothes thanks to the sponsors, so this is as good as it's going to get.

He's resetting his third empty snare when he hears someone calling his name. Sam doesn't recognize the voice, and he's considering just ignoring it, until he hears Jet and Albert's names as well. That makes him stop what he's doing, ducking behind a tree where he can hide while the sound of footsteps in the snow grow closer.

Being injured makes him even more wary than normal - he doesn't want to walk into a trap when he's not at his best.

But there's only one guy running around, and Sam can't just ignore him with the names he's calling. So he steps out, putting the tree against his back both so someone can't sneak up on him from behind, and so he has a place to lean to make it not as obvious that he's favoring one leg.

"What do you want with them?"

Phillip sighed out in relief the moment he heard another voice. He didn't make any note of injuries at that moment simply because he had pressing matters in his mind. Venus would enter shock and lose consciousness if he didn't come back soon, and end her stay prematurely.

"Are you Sam Wilson?" he called out, as he put away his own hunting knife for good measure. He even resisted his usual double-hello, it was that dire. "I need help!" No use beating around the bush in these sorts of situations. "Venus got mauled with one of the sabertooth cats and...she told me she should find you, Jet, Albert, or Joly."

Nervous sentence structure aside, Gray laid everything out for Sam to make the decision. "S-she's stable but she needs better help!"

If this is a trap, it’s a really damn good one. That’s one of the few names that Sam is willing to risk running right into one for. The change is immediate - his guard drops a little, expression moving from wary to concern with a brief stopover in fear as he pushes himself away from the tree, settling his backpack on his shoulders in preparation for running.

“Yeah, I’m Sam Wilson. Let’s go, where is she?” He doesn’t ask who the guy is - there’ll be time for that later, right now, the most important thing is getting to Venus.

"She's near the ledges, j-just follow the blood, okay?" Phillip saw the hesitation and understood. He pointed down the direction he'd come from, snow still retaining the shape of trenches.

Sam was imposing, and truly capable of murdering the hell out of an ordinary man like Gray. Either way, the former guard started the run back towards the hideout.

"She's lost a lot of blood," he continued as he waited for the soldier to catch up, "I didn't move her but she'll be going into shock soon." No time for chit-chat.

Phil did a decent job stitching up the immediate wounds, and the trail of blood Venus has dragged behind her is less from her injuries than from what's already soaked into her parka and pants. The pool of blood has taken on a pink, slushy sheen, dusted with slow-melting snowflakes across the top. It's evident that while she's gotten out of the cold, she's been unable to even remotely hide herself. She's curled up in the mouth of her cave, next to her supplies, coiled like a nautilus around the lacerations across her abdomen.

"Hey," she murmurs, not seeing who it is who approaches and not loud enough to really raise her voice. Her eyelashes flutter and she sees two dark shapes, but can't tell who they are, if they're friends or just people come to pick her off, and she finds she's mostly apathetic to the result. She supposes she doesn't want to let Phil down by dying on him. That's about all the investment she has in it.

Despite the injury to his leg, Sam keeps up easily, focused pretty much entirely on getting to Venus as quickly as he can. He listens to the guy leading him only enough to pick up what he should be expecting, and the trail of blood they find pretty much confirms that.

He picks up the pace when he spots Venus at the mouth of the cave, skidding to a stop and crouching down next to her in the same motion.

“V.” It’s a soft whisper, a brief moment where Sam swallows back fear and anger and even a little bit of relief that she’s able to talk, before he switches over into professional. He whips off his backpack, unzipping it and pulling out supplies.

“You there when it happened?” he asks the guy who brought him here without looking up at him.

“V, I need you to roll over on your back, okay?” Even as he asks, Sam’s already moving to gently nudge her over so he can get a better view of her injuries.

Phil kept a close eye on what Sam is doing, assessing than none of the stitches broke or for any drops in pressure. He doesn't leave Venus' side but he knows that the soldier will do a better job.

"No, I was coming back to see if she was still here," the former guard answered as truthfully as he could. "She was already that color when I found her."

Keeping his focus, Gray pointed out his work on Venus to help Sam in anything while he rolled up whatever cloth he could find as a pillow, "Where are the others? Uh, Joly, he's the medical student, is he still here?"

There's one long second, one that seems to yawn open and take in more time than one second should allow, where Venus doesn't respond to Sam, doesn't seem to recognize him or even be cognizant of her surroundings. Then she snaps to.

"Sam?"

She obediently follows the gesture of his arm and lays back. Her spine unfurls like a leaf coming from a bud, into too tight an arch from the way her muscles clench with pain. Psychologically, she's fine with it. Physically, her body rebels against its injury. The cuts are deep, her blood pressure low, but no vital organs have been hit.

"Did Phil bring you?"

Sam gently eases her jacket off of her, tossing it away. It’s too blood soaked right now to do any good at keeping her warm. Normally he’d just start cutting her shirt away, wrecked up as it is thanks to the tiger, but here he’s well aware of the importance of saving any amount of clothes. Instead he pushes the shirt out of the way a little as carefully wraps her up in his own parka, pulls his gloves on over her hands - it’s not like he can use them while he works on her, anyway - and tugs the park’s hood over her head, fighting off shock and cold alike.

Phil, okay, that must be the guy’s name. “Yeah, he did. You’re going to be okay, all right? We got you.”

He gets her feet propped up about a foot off the ground, resting them on whatever he can find close by, as he shakes his head at Phil’s question.

“No idea who he is, man. But Jet and Albert’re camped up in the caves.”

His attention is mostly on her injuries, pulling out antiseptics and bandages as he gets to work finishing up on what Phil’d already done.

"Damn, he could've been great for this..." Phil groaned for a moment then took action. He drew his knife out and nodded towards Sam, "I'll keep watch, you focus on Venus if you can, I'll help you carry her."

He took a look at Sam's injuries as well. "You need to get that checked too sir," he commented without letting Vee hear or get her worried. There wasn't much he could do for them, they were on a league of their own.

"Whenever you're ready, I'm good to go."

"I know. I trust you."

Venus, for her part, doesn't say much else, doesn't complain while Sam does his work, doesn't even seem aware that it's part of her body anymore. She cranes her neck a bit, not to see but to tuck her chin and try to stay warm. It wasn't until Sam tucked her in more clothing that she even realized how cold she was. It makes her feel stiff and awkward and made of clay.

She feels an overwhelming sense of peace, one only occasionally interrupted by bursts of anxiety depending on where Sam's hands are. She feels as if she's been lowered into a warm bath and is floating, fetus-like, in nourishing and calm fluids. The occasional spike of panic - not of dying, but of a more existential sort of terror - goes off in the back of her head like a far-off firework against an otherwise clear horizon.

Sam doesn't give the guy a look for suggesting that some medical student would be great for this when they've got an experienced pararescueman right here, but that's mostly because he's too busy focusing on Venus to indulge in any kind of professional pride.

He knows his worry is entirely personal. It could have been much worse - Sam's seen much worse, and he's got plenty of supplies from his med kit to work with. She'd do better with a transfusion or some kind of fluids, but aside from that she's cleaned up, skin pieced back together and stitched up, bandaged and wrapped nice and warm, and that's the best that can be done.

But he's still worried. It's Venus, he's always going to worry. Especially when she tells him she trusts him like that. He touches her cheek, thumb stroking a little.

"We're going to take you to Albert and Jet, okay?"

He glances back over at Phil now that he's done, shaking his head. "I'm fine, already patched myself up. Can you keep on guard while we take her back? It's not too far, but I'd still rather one of us have our hands free in case we run into someone."

Phil would later apologize to Sam when he figures out he's one of the heroes that Venus kept company with. And maybe he was a little sad when he spotted the intimate touch, but that was entirely selfish of him to ever say out loud. She would be in safe hands, and when she came out victorious, well, that was up to her and the soldier currently carrying her. She placed his trust on a capable man as he saw Wilson finish what the guard started. At the command, Gray got back on his haunches and went ahead to aid them out of the spot and into the blistering cold again.

"On it, sir," Phil nodded and hurried up to the side, "Are they far?"

Leave it to a consummate wreck to lead the way and try to figure things out before getting too antsy.

Edited (sorry about that, thread ate itself) 2015-03-21 01:22 (UTC)

"Okay." Venus doesn't pass out, but with the tension to survive removed from her, with the feeling that she will be safe, she stops fighting. She allows herself to rest, and it's like releasing her grip on something, like going slack. She rests her head against Sam's shoulder, barely feeling his thumb as it strokes her cheek.

She's silent for the rest of the time it takes to find Albert and Jet, breathing peacefully, eyelashes fluttering.

The tree house is as unobtrusive as they could make it, with branches held down low to force a canopy and keep it protected from the elements, lately mostly being snow. It's not all that imperceptible though, especially not with Albert's pants hanging out over the side in an effort to get them dry. He's just fishing them off the edge of the makeshift deck, which is why he notices the small band of Tributes' approach.

Where it strangers, he might have just retreated inside and kept wary watch, but Sam and Venus he recognizes, and with one carrying the other, he instead retreats to alert Jet then slides down to the ground, hurrying over with one of the med kits from their sponsor spoils.

"What happened?" No pleasantries, just business gilded all around with worry.

Edited 2015-03-30 21:10 (UTC)

Jet had been whittling away both time and wood when Albert told him Sam and Venus were approaching. He was only a second behind his partner when they left the treehouse and met the group. Albert had the med kit and Jet left him to it, moving to stand next to Sam and press his sleeved wrist to Venus' cheek.

"Vee? Not lookin' too hot there." There was concern in his tone, but it wasn't as strong as it might be if Sam had been running up to the tree. It probably wasn't life-threatening, at least.

They're not too far, fortunately, and Sam tells Phil as much before they head out. He's tense as they move, jogging as quickly as he dares while he tries to keep quiet. The last thing they need right now is another Tribute finding them and taking advantage of things.

But they make it to the treehouse unbothered, and Sam lets himself relax a little when Albert and Jet emerge.

"Tigers," Sam replies, resettling Venus in his arms. "Phil and I patched her up best we could-" He pauses to nod his head at the man with him. "-but she's lost quite a bit of blood."

Phillip nodded, a bit winded from the watch over to this place, and actually seeing cyborgs in action. This is kind of nice considering they're in a snow death arena and there were murder cats running around like they owned the place. Which they do.

"She's headed into shock if we don't get some transfusions going and she's got a lot of damage around her torso."

Moment of truth, more so when Phil sees the way Venus falls into Sam's arms and whatever position they lay her down. Pull through...please, please don't be like the others, he mentally pleaded with her. He didn't want to see that rare spark they had die so early in the Arena.

Gray stepped back and placed his knife on the ground, as a show of good faith. He looked at Albert and Jet, and finally to Sam. "I-I can keep watch, just focus on her and you guys." He knew when to be the night guard again.

"I'm fine," Venus protests, but quietly and noncommittally. "I've survived worse."

But she's also been in combat often enough to know that it's not always the worst injury that kills someone. Sometimes it's the lucky shot that doesn't get treated in time, or the infection, or the withering afterwards. The last time she was this badly injured in an Arena she didn't have to handle exposure to the cold on top of things.

She pats Sam's chest. "You can put me down if you want."

"How exactly do you expect us to manage transfusions here?" He looks at Phillip with a deadpan expression - after all, if the man has an idea on how to do that safely, he agrees Venus needs some blood - but if wishes were horses and all that. Still, there's no overt show of mistrust to the newcomer from Albert. If Sam trusts him enough to be the one with hands free while carrying their patient, then that's enough for Albert.

"She's right, though." Albert puts a cool and gentle hand on Venus' forehead. She doesn't seem feverish, but with wounds like that he knows the odd sensation of burning up while the rest of you feels cool as the blood leaves your body. "She's strong and she'll come through. Besides, the cold's probably helped slow her circulation and she's lost less than we think. Don't put her down just yet though, Sam, we need to get her up in the tree if we can."

He looks up in the tall pine, then at Jet. "Ideas?"

"Without some kind of elevation system? Really, only one." If he could fly, that'd be easiest, but that wasn't an option.

He turned his attention to Venus. "Think you could hold on tight if you were on my back? That or we could find a way to secure you, if you think there's a chance you're too weak to hold on yourself." Which, considering, might be a real possibility. He threw a glance over at Albert to judge if he was going to deem it a bad idea or not. "And it ought to be me and her cause you're lucky to get yourself up there most of the time."

He turned to the stranger, finally really acknowledging his existence, although not overly kindly. "Hey, you, you got rope or something? All of ours is being used right now."

Phillip was pretty sure he was the oddball out of a group of professional Tributes at this point, so Jet's lack of hospitality suited the man just fine. He shook his head but he knew where to look: the parachute for the Sponsor package.

"P-parachute, will it work?"

Without Venus on his back and watching out for incoming enemies, Phil made for a good sprinter to go back and forth the Arena for supplies. And even if it didn't, nylon wasn't a bad resource to have in survival. By coming back to the site, and following the trail left by Sam and Venus, Gray offered that much.

"Anything you need, I'll find it."

[let me know if you want me to change anything!]

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Turn the White Snow Red as Strawberries in Summertime [Closed]

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