thearena | (no subject)

Who| Maximus, Wyatt and Howard - CLOSED
What| Howard coming to crash the party
Where| In the trees
When| Nightfall after the Cornucopia
Warnings/Notes| Bullheadedness, teenage emotions and heart break probably

As fast as Maximus meant to move, he couldn't keep it up. Despite the leg being healed almost completely, he was still weaker than he had been, and the hours of walking saw him moving slower and slower, lagging behind Wyatt. He never said anything of course, just grit his teeth and kept moving, but there was a certain amount of relief when he saw the first red golden streaks of dusk.

"We'd best make camp."

With all of their supplies it hadn't been difficult. They'd debated camping in the trees, versus on the ground, but one of the trees was exceedingly large and had a hollowed groove between its roots which offered good cover from either side. Their waterproof ponchos provided good cover from above, and the small fire they made could only really be seen if you stood directly in front of the shelter. It wasn't necessarily ideal, but it was close enough to it.

Once he had a moment to sit down, Maximus carefully inspected the entirety of his prosthetic leg. He'd ended up with one that wasn't fashioned to look real - obviously metal and highly articulated, with no false skin. He ran his fingers along every ridge and groove, removing dust and mud and leaves, as careful with it as he was with his blade.

He cooked one potato each, for him and for Wyatt, roasting them next to the fire. He wanted their supplies to last as long as possible.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The smile broadened slightly and he reached out further, pressing the edge of the baked potato against Wyatt's chest.

"We're in this together, Wyatt. You aren't getting rid of me that easily. Eat up, and we'll go on a hunt. Perhaps Howard will come around if we bring him Aunamee's head. And even if he doesn't, at least you'd know he was safe." A pause, a slightly rougish look. "Well, safer."

And people wondered why Wyatt did and said the things he did for Max. Why he felt the way he did.

How often was a man granted a bond like this? Someone who would go that far, offer that much for another person?

It paled friendship. Family didn't do it justice.

It didn't fill the hole in his chest, but it helped. More than anything else could hope to.

He reached up with one hand to take the potato, the skin warm and slightly crisped beneath his fingers. "I was wrong, 'bout what I said before. 'Bout not bein' sure I could do this without ya." The other took Max, fingers curling around his arm in that familiar grip. "I know I can't."

The edges of his eyes crinkled slightly, relieved that Wyatt seemed at least a little less upset.

"Oh, I know you could," Maximus clarified. "You'd manage. Miserably, maybe, but you'd manage." His hand free of potato, he gripped Wyatt's arm with a reflected touch, squeezing his bicep gently before he started to resort their equipment back into the piles it was in before. "Do you want to get a shift worth of rest, or should we make out for it now?"

It would ease his conscience to go as soon as possible, but logically he knew that wasn't wise. First night in the new arena, who knew what was waiting out there, what traps and tricks the Gamemakers were waiting to release.

What monsters would come out with the dark.

Sighing, he set the potato aside to help Max put things back to rights.

"We can trade off tonight," he offered. "An' head out first thing in the mornin'."

Maximus nodded, though he made sure they didn't leave any spare supplies out. Everything was tucked away in case they needed to move hastily - which was always a decent idea, in the Arena.

"Do you want the first shift?" He asked once they'd finished setting things to rights, and he pointedly glanced at Wyatt's uneaten potato. Wyatt was going to eat whether he liked it or not.

Wyatt followed Max's eyes to the potato, and then back. His mouth tipped, an uncertain pull upward at one corner.

"Might better take the first yerself." He reached for the potato, knowing what Max wanted, and gestured lightly with it. "I still gotten clean my plate."

Maximus nodded. He would never admit out loud just how weary he was - how much more difficulty he was having with the leg. Would not want to put that on Wyatt, especially not after all of this. But he knew it was the best idea. So he rolled out the sleeping bag next to the fire and slowly slipped into it.

"Four, four?" He asked.

Wyatt settled down, the fire on one side, Max on the other, close enough to feel the comfortable warmth of both. As the bag rustled and stilled, he pulled at the potato, breaking it into smaller, manageable pieces.

"I'll wake ya," he promised, glancing over and offering a small nod. "When I need ya."

Not if.

Maximus nodded as he settled in. Ever the soldier, he knew it wouldn't take him long to fall asleep - he needed to grab rest when he could, and his leg had made him weary.

His conscience, despite everything, was clear.

As he drifted off to sleep, he was only focused on what he had to do next.