[ Carver tugs his hood back up and follows her silently. He doesn’t reach for the knife at his side, not even to touch the hilt as a comfort. It wouldn’t do him any good here. He’s sweating in the middle of what feels like dead winter and everything feels too tightly drawn against him. Trapping him. All he wants is to reach out and touch someone, anyone.
This is spiraling. It was almost comical at the start. Now -
He feels dizzy. Sick with wanting when he shouldn’t. He hasn’t been with anyone in years, can barely remember the last time. Must have been those scavengers over in Lexington. That couple he ran into after he got separated from the group, that couple who’d cornered him and nearly shot him before they decided not to. It was summer, he thinks. They burned sage in their campfire. It made him sneeze but he liked the smell of it, something different. Something other than rot.
He stayed with them for almost a week. They both had him - the woman first, then the man - and then they had him together and the next morning he caught the signal whistle from his people and left, never looked back. Never stole from them or went back to end the threat they posed.
It was high summer then. A strange time, years ago, back when Shaw was missing. When they thought she might be dead, her and -
No. Don’t go there.
It’s hard to focus now. Winter rather than summer and this woman in front of him. Angle, what’s her angle? Everyone’s got an angle. But what does he have, if he doesn’t follow her? No path worth taking.
He keeps his eyes up and he follows without a word. ]
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This is spiraling. It was almost comical at the start. Now -
He feels dizzy. Sick with wanting when he shouldn’t. He hasn’t been with anyone in years, can barely remember the last time. Must have been those scavengers over in Lexington. That couple he ran into after he got separated from the group, that couple who’d cornered him and nearly shot him before they decided not to. It was summer, he thinks. They burned sage in their campfire. It made him sneeze but he liked the smell of it, something different. Something other than rot.
He stayed with them for almost a week. They both had him - the woman first, then the man - and then they had him together and the next morning he caught the signal whistle from his people and left, never looked back. Never stole from them or went back to end the threat they posed.
It was high summer then. A strange time, years ago, back when Shaw was missing. When they thought she might be dead, her and -
No. Don’t go there.
It’s hard to focus now. Winter rather than summer and this woman in front of him. Angle, what’s her angle? Everyone’s got an angle. But what does he have, if he doesn’t follow her? No path worth taking.
He keeps his eyes up and he follows without a word. ]