(no subject)

[the_marshal]

Who| Wyatt and Open
What| Watching the Death announcements.
Where| Near the Cornucopia
When| The night of the Cornucopia battle.
Warnings| Wyatt being glum, mentions of death.

He'd meant to find Neeshka during the bloodbath, had hoped they might someway be able to come to an understanding. He hadn't wanted last night to be the last word between them....

But he'd lost track of her during the scramble, had come away injured (he was lucky the knife had missed his eye) - if not empty-handed - himself, and he'd had no choice but to retreat, to find somewhere to hole up until the sounds of the fighting had died away, until the cannons had sounded, and night had finally fallen.

Now, with the snow falling lightly and the bright white moon turning the ground beneath him a pale, glittering blue, he traced his way back to the Cornucopia.



For the most of the journey there was nothing, no sound save for the whisper of his own breathing and the crunch of the ice and snow beneath his boots... but then, as the great metal horn was rising like a dark and terrible beast from the unbroken horizon, the Capitol theme blared through the arena and the sky lit up in a shimmering wave of color.

He paused to watch, his Adam's apple lurching as the faces began to appear. He even found himself praying, mumbling quietly to himself as it went on, something he hadn't done in-

-there she was. Her face was shining down at him from the field of stars.

His mouth fell open, the spear he carried slipped numbly from his fingers, metal head cutting into the ice.

She was gone.

Comments

[mudbloodhater]

He merely pinched his mouth at that, looking - truthfully - rather unhappy as he glanced aside. When he looked back to Wyatt, he seemed to return the once-over, then slowly began to lower his weapon; he might have wanted to win this time around, but that didn't mean he had to just kill every Tribute he came across.

"Assuming I did," Draco started, making sure his grip on the harpoon was good enough that if Wyatt chose to attack him now that he was off his guard, he wouldn't be totally dead in the water, "I would propose a sort of...alliance. We help each other out until we determine that we don't need to any more. Easier than having as many of us just wandering around on our own, wouldn't you say?"

[the_marshal]

To look at him, Wyatt wasn't sure he could trust the boy not to stick something pointy in him as soon as his back was turned. But, that said, that he'd offered at all was encouraging.

And, given that he was prepared for it, meant he wasn't likely to be lettin' his guard down and the kid'd really have to work for it.

He nodded. "And I'd say that sounds like a mighty fine idea, given our current situation." Slowly, he extended his right hand, both in greeting and in truce. "Deal?"

[mudbloodhater]

Hesitating for but a moment, Draco thought again about whether this was a good idea, then quickly decided that it very much was. Wyatt had about him the look of someone who could take care of himself, and perhaps he would know better what to do with all these supplies Draco had found himself with. Without taking them all, of course.

He nodded, switching his harpoon to the other hand so he could clasp the other man's firmly in a handshake. "Deal." And then onto the next order of business: "What did you get from the Cornucopia?"

[the_marshal]

Wyatt took his hand back after a few up-and-down pumps, and passed the spear back to his right side, emphasising the gesture with a simple, "This."

He looked up, tracing the length the spear with his eyes. "It's not much. But I did keep my eye as well, so I figure it a fair trade." While the gash on his face wasn't deep, it would have been more than enough to destroy his left eye had been just a smidge over more.

[mudbloodhater]

He pursed his mouth, examining that gash a little bit intently before nodding vaguely to himself. He was considering himself lucky for not only getting away with as much as he did, but also a distinct lack of injuries. Of course, that was only because he'd grabbed the harpoon before the bag, he was sure.

His pack weighed heavily on his back, and he gestured to it, "I've a number of supplies. The other Tributes are my only concern right now." Which was considerably better than having to worry about finding food, too.

[the_marshal]

"Well, I can mind yer back for ya," Wyatt offered, in trade. "And I'm no stranger to trackin' and huntin'. I don't know what game they've got in here, but whatever it is, I'll find it."

If felt a bit odd to selling himself like this, but if the boy was willing to share what he had... then Wyatt figured he should at least make it clear he'd be able to pay him back.

[mudbloodhater]

Draco nodded, frowning at first, then deciding that yes, this was a good idea. Definitely a good idea. "I'm sure there's something; they couldn't just drop us in here with nothing at all." He looked pleased that Wyatt had something to offer him - something Draco most certainly did not have, especially. That was how alliances worked, he thought. People offered each other things they didn't have.

[the_marshal]

Wyatt gave a decisive sort of nod.

"Well, if we're in agreement then, what'da ya say we figure out what our first move is?"

Neeshka was gone, hopefully back at the Capitol, and there was nothing here for him. He wanted to get out of the cold - or barring that, out of the wind - and outta the dark, where anyone or anything could be waiting.

"To me, shelter aught to be our first priority."

[mudbloodhater]

"Of course shelter is the first priority. It's bloody cold out here," he replied, managing to keep most of the scoff from his voice. Draco knew full well that he was coming off a bit childish, but it didn't matter much to him. It was cold, and if they didn't hurry, the good places would probably be taken.

"Did you have anywhere in mind? I haven't seen anything yet."

[the_marshal]

Wyatt lifted an eyebrow.

For now, he was willing to let it slide, givin' their circumstances, but if it kept on, they'd have to do something about that sass. Wyatt wasn't about to be bullied by some boy still wet behind the ears.

"The ice has got holes. Holed up in one myself after gettin' outta here. Shouldn't be hard to find one big enough for the two of us."

[mudbloodhater]

No one would ever completely get rid of Draco's sass. He could tone it down, he supposed, but not for a little while. Maybe after he got to know Wyatt a little bit more.

"Does that work?" He asked after a moment, frowning a little. "I wouldn't imagine spending time in a hole of ice would do anything to keep you warm."

[the_marshal]

"Gettin' outta the wind'll help. And if ya can find somewhere enclosed, body heat will do the rest," he said sagely, looking out across the dark ice. "Won't be the same as curlin' up in a warm bed, a'course, but you'll live."

He looked back at Draco, an eyebrow raised. "And that's the point, ain't it?"

[mudbloodhater]

He sighed heavily, glancing from Wyatt - with a slightly sceptical look to him - out over the ice and snow. It didn't bode well in the slightest, but he knew he had a sleeping bag. Maybe that would do him well enough.

"All right. That works," Draco confirmed, hesitating before frowning back at his companion again, "How do you know so much about it?"

[the_marshal]

"Spent my fair share'a nights in the cold, son," he replied. "Ain't a lot of comfort on the trail, and ya learn quick to make due with what ya got."

A strange perk of being where and when he was from. Wyatt was used to doing without.

[mudbloodhater]

"Oh, good," he replied, pursing his mouth and barely resisting the urge to tell Wyatt not to call him 'son'. He wasn't terribly partial to the phrase at the best of times, least of all from someone who wasn't his father; but he kept his mouth shut. "So that's what you're doing now. These Arenas must not be all bad for you, then."

[the_marshal]

A snort.

"Just 'cause one can, doesn't mean one has to like it," he said dryly, turning slowly - before finally deciding on a direction and setting off. Expecting Draco to fall in.

"This way, iffen yer comin'."

call this wrapped? c:

[mudbloodhater]

He had a point there. Draco ruminated on it a moment, eyes dropping to the ground beneath their feet briefly before he hurried to catch up, falling in moments after the prompt.