Survival

[formersurgeon]

Who| Sherlock, the Watsons, and OTA
What| Like it says on the tin
Where| The jungle
When| End of week 1, early week 2
Warnings/Notes| Sherlock, John and Joan are all available here to thread with, one of them, two of them, or all three. Just specify who in the subject line!


Surviving in the jungle hadn't been easy on the three of them. Among them, only John had any real outdoor survival experience prior to the Arenas, and that had been for deserts, mostly. Sherlock had plenty of theoretical knowledge on the subject, but not much practical experience beyond the previous Arenas. And as far as survival techniques went, Joan was the most useless of the three.

Regardless, they were making it work. They had picked a decent spot to set up camp, managed to keep their supplies passably dry, and took turns scouting or keeping watch while at least one of them stayed at the camp. That one was frequently John, since he had to stay off his injured leg as much as possible. Joan checked his stitches every day, and so far there hadn't been any major problems.

It was a relatively comfortable setup, but Joan knew it couldn't last. They were already running low on food, and eventually they would have to worry about the wrong type of person finding them. The kind of person who wanted to win. If they could only hold out a couple more days, until John's wound is sufficiently healed...

Comments

[shinyisfalse]

"Isn't this place just the best?" Peeta said sarcastically. Wasn't this place just the best? Kill or be killed, mostly about you being killed. Everyone being killed in some way. It was just great.

He had to look away when the leg came off. He wasn't used to that part of it. It was one thing, knowing you had one. But to see it taken off, and to see that stub of yours, that bit that was what was left of the leg you had for your entire life, except up to almost a year ago? He couldn't do it. Peeta had to look away.

"How is it?"

[formersurgeon]

He looked away, and she didn't blame him. It was pretty common, after all. Accepting the loss of a limb, and then the use of a prosthetic, was a difficult thing.

She set the prosthetic aside and examined the stump. "Yeah, you've got some chafing. Judging from where it is, I'd say some of your straps weren't tight enough. They might have come loose while you were climbing around here."

She leaned in to take a closer look, then pressed her lips, pulling back.

"I'm going to put a topical on that," she said, going for the first aid kit. "Hang on a sec."

[shinyisfalse]

It's what it felt like, that he was sliding around a little with it. There was such a confusion of straps involved, more then you ever though. But that was the Capitol. Everything had to be complicated.

"Sure, go ahead, take your time. It's not a problem for me, getting a chance to sit down and be comfortable for a little bit." Peeta grinned.

[formersurgeon]

"As comfortable as a log is likely to be, anyway." She came back over with the kit and sat cross-legged on the ground in front of him. "Our medical supplies are a little low," she said, opening the kit. "We had an injury...someone attacked John at the Cornucopia. Cut his leg pretty bad. But we should have enough antiseptic ointment to spare."

She took out the tube, and squeezed out a glob onto some gauze.

[shinyisfalse]

"So long as it doesn't break under me, I'm perfectly content with using a log as a seat." Peeta was stocky, and maybe a little underfed at the moment, but you never knew. Sometimes you just sat on a log that was too rotted to be of any use.

All jokes stopped though, as he reached out. "Wait, is he going to be okay?" He looked at her seriously. "I don't want to take anything that you might need for later. If you're running low, I can get by."