ain't no party like a ranger party [open]

[elfstone]

Who| Thorongil and anyone!
What| That great big open party log I promised! Thorongil is taking a different approach to this Arena, and that approach involves giving people free food.
Where| Around the arena -- generally in the forest area.
When| Late week 1, post-Bilbo and Sam )':
Warnings/Notes| Feel free to respond using the log prompt itself, but if you have another idea, feel free to throw it at me in a toplevel! Thorongil will be wandering around the Arena hunting for food, so he could stumble on conceivably anything. Ragnar, Anna, I'm looking at you two especially.

For many of you, this Arena will be one of the most traumatic things you've ever experienced.

For Thorongil, it's Tuesday.

Most nights, he camps with a fire. Reckless? Perhaps, if he were trying to win the Arena.

But that's not Thorongil's goal.

He hunts during the day and cooks what he catches at night: if the firelight doesn't draw in other Tributes, the smell will. It's been a few days. They're probably starting to get hungry.

Approach in the open, and he will greet you with a nod of his head. Try to sneak up on him, and he will hear you. "You'd better come out into the light," he will say, putting a hand on the long, sharp spear he's made for himself. "I know you're there."

Comments

[a_minute_younger]

Gary's never been very subtle. He mouths a silent yes of victory and easily catches the fish, mid-stride to the other side of the fire. "Too bad," he shrugs with a returned grin. "I guess we'll just have to make up for it ourselves."

He settles in a clear patch by the fire pit and gives the fish an experimental sniff. Gary's not sure he likes eating it off the bone like this, not without a fork to pick out the bits he doesn't want, but he's hungry enough not to care too much. He takes a delicate bite. "Was it a friend of yours? The guy who visited, I mean."

[elfstone]

"Friend? Perhaps," says Thorongil thoughtfully, opening the bottle of water and taking a sip of it. "He healed me of an injury in the last Arena, and I did what I could to return the favor in this one." There is approval in Thorongil's tone: he thinks Aang is a good-hearted kid, one Thorongil might even be willing to place trust in, should the need arise.

[a_minute_younger]

Gary makes a muffled noise of understanding through a mouthful of fish. At least, he thinks he understands. "A doctor, then? That's cool." A beat. "Why didn't he stick around? He sounds like a nice guy."

[elfstone]

"A healer," Thorongil gently corrects. "He has magic for it, though the Capitol has taken that art from him. And he did not stay because he had no need of me: the food I had, he could not eat, and it is not yet cold enough for him to feel the need for fire."

[a_minute_younger]

Gary mumbles a long "oh" of enlightenment and a few nods, pausing again to gnaw at the fish. Now that he's gotten over the initial confusion on how to approach this food, he tears into it with the enthusiasm of someone who hasn't had a good meal in several days. Which is accurate. Thorongil's campfire cooking can only do so much for someone who's used to eating like a king.

"Healing powers! Neat." He can...mostly believe that. Based on the range of abilities Dustin had told him about, healing seems pretty standard. Gary won't question it too much, not when there are more entertaining things to discuss. "Not even just to, like, stick around a talk? What else is he gonna do out here in the middle of the night? Sing to the birds like a princess?"

[elfstone]

"I don't know," he says, dropping into Capitolite and Tribute syntax for a moment. "Perhaps he feels safer sleeping away from a fire -- a fair concern," Thorongil adds, "for fires draw attention, and not always the friendly sort."

He himself doesn't sound too worried, though.

[a_minute_younger]

That catches Gary's attention. He pauses in the middle of chewing, looking ahead with wide, somewhat confused eyes.

"Why wouldn't they be?" No, wait, he's not that oblivious. Gary holds up his free hand to cut off any immediate explanation. "--I mean, yeah, sure, death games and all that shit. But you're giving out food! People like food. I bet if you offered some, they'd leave you alone."

[elfstone]

"I took this risk because it is still early in the Arena," says Thorongil, "and few will have found their friends yet. A band of Tributes, working together, might think it better to eliminate an opponent and take what food and supplies he had gathered than to accept his offer.

"Fortunately, such bands will be few, and those who do see the fire will either come to it for help, avoid it, or be but a single enemy."

[a_minute_younger]

"Really?" Clearly these options don't sit well with Gary, but he's not outwardly troubled by them--just casually dismissive. He leans forward and paints on a good-humored grin. "Nah. I've never seen anyone do that before." In the one whole large-scale Arena he's participated in. Gary's experience isn't exactly comprehensive, but it's all he has. "I bet, if you offered to hunt and cook for them, they'd take you in. Like, what's the point of trying to make a group if you're just gonna kill everyone that has stuff you want? Can't make friends if you kill all the people."

[elfstone]

"It is a brutal strategy," counters Aragorn, "but not an unsound one. We would see it more, I imagine, if there weren't so few Tributes actively seeking to kill."

[a_minute_younger]

Gary suddenly throws his hands in the air in an exaggerated shrug and looks around, as if searching for dissenters in the dark winter forest. The cooked fish carcass flops awkwardly in his fingers along the way.

"You just said it yourself!" he declares. "Most of us aren't trying to kill each other. So why is everyone so paranoid about it? We're reasonable people! It's fine. Everything's fine."