See our world is slowly dying

[libertin]

Who| Courfeyrac & You!
What| Do you wanna build a barricade? Because Courfeyrac does.
Where| The Little Meadow
When| Week 2, after the snow and the tiger attacks are over.
Warnings/Notes| Free for all! You can make your own threads if you like!

The fresh fallen snow gave Courfeyrac a bright idea. Being dressed properly for the weather and able bodied this time around, it occurred to him that he was in a proper condition to build a structure out of snow. Having found shelter in the woods and in various locations until then, he was satisfied with the consistency of the snow to complete the task. He set out for the smaller of the two meadows, and with only his gloved hands as tools, he began to construct a fortress. Of course, the work would be easier had he companions to join in the task…

❖ ❖ ❖

Later in the evening, as the sun begins to set, the snow barricade begins to truly take shape. Large enough to accommodate it's builders, and a few more, it stands proud and serene in the meadow, both beckoning others to investigate and standing as a symbol of Tributes united. Don't fuck with the barricade, or these guys will fuck you up.

Comments

[libertin]

To that, he scoffs, leveling Gary with a look of pity. "And abandon our work to wander around aimlessly as the sunsets? I think not. We've all the supplies we need in here, plus food and company. Besides, it is only somewhat cold now. When we gather, we shall be warmer."

[a_minute_younger]

Gary is honestly baffled, but Courfeyrac seems to be taking this very seriously--he realizes at the last moment, with his mouth-half opened, that saying 'you mean we weren't just passing the time' might not be the wisest call. He pauses and thoroughly scratches his chin.

...The company is good. Gary likes company. He supposes this is acceptable, better than wandering to the caves alone. The food, too, that's never something he can turn down. Simple analysis aside, Gary shrugs.

"Yeah, fair," he sniffs. "All my blankets and tents and stuff are, uh..."

Gary turns to look at the wall and the figures he's built there, and the improvised clothing they've been given. Whoops.

"...What's for dinner?"

[libertin]

That's better. Courfeyrac gives a nod of approval as he gets up to sift through the meal options. "We've some tinned meat," he offers, shuffling further. "And a tin of carrots in a ginger sauce. That sounds charming. We ought to try that one."

[a_minute_younger]

Gary crinkles his nose on instinct. Spam and soggy carrots. This isn't exactly his idea of a 'charming' meal, especially since--

"--For all of us?" Gary gives another desperate glance around the camp. "Have you seen Thorongil? He's good at hunting, I bet he's found some stuff."

[libertin]

“I have,” he answers, still resolved than using the canned goods would be for the best. He’s too chivalrous to take fresh food when he knows full well he can survive with what they already have at their disposal. “And he and I are agreed that his spoils would be best left to those among us who are truly in need. We here are not in any danger of starvation. We can make due with the meat and carrots that we have. The other Tributes who’ve not received any care packages ought to get what Thorongil can spare."

[a_minute_younger]

No amount of forced politeness can stifle the stiff pout and "aww" of disappointment at hearing this news. Thorongil's food is great, though. He doesn't want to give that up for carrots! Life is hard. So, so hard.

Gary resigns himself to this fate quietly, but not gracefully, dragging his feet to the center of camp and slumping down by the soon-to-be campfire. All energy gained from praises about his work on the wall seems to have left him, drained, utterly, like he's run a marathon and hasn't eaten in months to top it off. His very soul weeps for his misfortune.

Maybe he's taking this a little too seriously.

Gary takes out his fire-starting kit and starts sluggishly striking matches at the campfire to distract himself.