Day 018: Eastward Bound
Summary: The Delinquent party heading east to the crash site talk about life, Grounders, and everything.
Date: 5 June 2016
Related: None directly.
Grey Gertie Martin Lark Max Lip 

In the woods
You know… the woods.
18 Days After Landing

Most of the group set out from the Camp late morning on Day 18, with the second dropship's calamitous fall only a dozen hours before. The rain has stopped entirely now, the sun warming the Earth rapidly until it begins to feel more like summer than spring. The group is carrying supplies for a four or five-day hike in slightly awkward bundles, and marching steadily east through the forest. Now the sun is slowly starting to sink, the sounds of rapidly-approaching dusk starting to chirp and buzz in the air.

Grey was not with the group when it left, taking off at a slow trot to the north before they even left to the east, but having planned to catch up with them on the way. And now he does, his jacket removed and slung under his bandoleer, bouncing along as he jogs up on the tail of the group. The ex-Cadet is sweating and panting, but as he spots the half-score Delinquents (some NPCs present too), he slows to a walk, dropping his hands to his hips and bending over partway as he makes the final approach.

Gertie walks alongside Max, her hands pushed deep inside her jacket pockets. Grimed and dirty, and with her hair stiff and spiked from a combination of the rain, sweat and dirt, she nevertheless has a smile on her face as she chats to the boy at her side. "And you'd not believe what she said after that…" she finishes, her nose scrunching as she scuffs a stone forwards with the toe of her boot. She's going to have to stop doing that soon, her boots have already started to disintegrate with what she's subjected them to in the preceding days, and it's in the periphery of her vision that she catches sight of Grey approaching. There's a quick touch to Max's arm, to draw his attention that way.

Martin hikes along with the group to go explore what happened. They likely will need someone with some survival skills, so he tags along, keeping an eye on the foliage and the trail. When Grey comes running in their direction, he hols and waits for the man to catch up. "Grey, nice to see you finally caught up to us. I was beginning to think we were going to have to rely solely on Lip to defend us." He gives his fellow Tesla Three member a slap to the shoulder. (Still patent pending)

Lark was the sort of young woman who had kept to herself for most of the… stress and drama of the initial couple of weeks here. But there was a marked interest from her when she heard about the fallen dropship, so she jumped at the chance to join the group over.

She was at the edges of the group here, but when Grey starts jogging back, she too, lifts her eyes up towards him, giving him an upnod. "Hey, so what do you think?" she asks. "Are we going to hike through the night, or are we gonna make camp here?" she inquires, her eyes flickering back to the others in her group as well. "I'd be afraid of the grounders getting there first, and looting whatever supplies they might have tried to send down."

Max walks alongside Gertie, his pack tilted awkwardly to one side, so he has to constantly shift it so as not to end up lopsided as they walk along. He seems to be listening to whatever she's saying, at least hes nodding along as though he's paying attention. The touch to his arm, however, gets his attention and he looks over in Grey's direction as he approaches. Curiosity flickers over his expression as he slows as well, waiting to see what Grey has to say before pushing forward.

"… so then she was all like: wait no, you're dirty and I was like: come on, are you serious? We're lucky to be alive and you're worried about some dirt?! Anyway, turns out that she just wasn't that into me. Which I don't understand because I've seen me and the me I've seen looks amazing for having been thrown down to Earth in an attempt to destroy the evidence of the crimes committed against young. Little did they know I would take up arms and step up to lead us on our path to civilization and victory!" Lip's been talking for however long it took them to reach this point. He doesn't even know who all is along for the ride or even taking the time to listen to him. No, the only thing he cares about is breaking into a four step sprint and throwing his arms out to the side, "VICTORYYYYYYYYY!" Oh Zod. This is actually happening. Why.

When Lip is slapped on the shoulder, he almost falls and even almost drops the spear-walking stick that he's been traveling with since his days taking down a panther. By himself. "Huh?" Lip turns to look at Martin and then kind of cuts his eyes in the direction of Grey. "Say what now? You want me to do what?" Lip glances back in the direction of the Hiking Ladies and grins. "Yeah, okay, whatever it is, I'm in. Also? Dibs. Yeah, on all of 'em…"

Grey brings up the front of his torn and stained shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, shifting the makeshift club slung on his back by the same bandoleer that holds his jacket and parachute-cloth water pouch. As he quick-walks up to the group, he works to catch his breath, speaking between gasps to Lark, "How's that for… conditioning? Like to see… your wimpy… soccer players… handle that." If Grey was being honest with himself, he'd admit that soccer players are probably in better cardiovascular condition than football players, but… well… he's not. There's a flash of consternation, and then he adds, "You were… the one Dad… bitched about… kicking the soccer ball… around, right?" Martin's words draw a weary nod, and a grin is beamed over to Lip, "Never fear… Grey's here…" Taking a swig of water, he adds, "And beat as hell." Lark gets a nod as well, "Trikru has horses. And there are villages near there." Apparently he got information in Coesbur, as well as giving it. Lip… well… it's best not to encourage him, right?

Martin looks to Lip and shakes his head, "I think you should maybe talk to them first, before laying a 'claim' as it were, Lip. You might have better success going that route." He tolls his eyes at his friend, before looking between Lark and Grey. "We're stopping already? We could still make a few more miles I think, especially if we are trying to beat horses." The blonde-haired man has his own walking spear and a stuffed pack on his back.

Gertie halts and turns, her right hand coming out of her pocket to lift a wave to Grey. "Good to see you again." She means it, she really does. It's never not going to be a relief to see one of their number. "I'm fine to keep pushing on too," she says, adding to what Martin says. It's highly likely she's been filtering out much of what Lip's been saying as they've been hiking, much in the way that a person filters out elevator music, though her eyes do just narrow in his direction when she catches the last part of what he says. Perhaps she's not been that immune. She scrubs a hand through her hair, rendering her even more porcupine in appearance and takes a few steps back towards the main group.

A smirk on Lark's lips, at Grey. "Yeah, because in football, they run for basically the entire game straight," says the young woman to the man, standing up a bit from the crouch she was in. She likewise was carrying water, in a container that was repurposed from tube-ish housing and bits of parachute as well. The bonus was it could function as a club, if worse came to worse.

"I dunno why you were so into that game - everyone on the Ark liked soccer more," she says. "Plus, didn't they all kinda divide into teams… or tribes?" she asks with a sudden wryness. "Each taking an animal as their totem?" A beat, though, at the information he gives out. "You /are/ in tight with those grounder types, huh?" she asks. Eyes flick to the others in the group - her eyes settling upon Martin most of all, as if she had a sixth sense that she was talked about. "I think that's what I'd vote for - keep going, then. If they have horses… then they might already be there."

Max had been silent for most of the journey, and remains as much at the news that Grey brings. He glances from one to the other as they offer opinions on football and the next course of action, taking a moment to set his pack down on the ground and adjust its contents to make it sit more squarely on his back, rather than tugging him off to one side. Lark's comment about the grounders, however, draws a faint smirk to the edges of his lips, but he makes no comment, at least not yet.

<FS3> Grey rolls Deception: Failure.

Martin notes to Lark, "I also went to the Grounder camp." Though, his eyes also move to Grey at the comments with a small smirk at what is being discussed. He doesn't say anything more, though, turning to lead the group further. He gestures to Lip to continue hiking, as he doesn't want to get involved in this discussion if there is one to be had

"Faster, harder, stronger, tougher," is Grey's response to Lark, along with a flexing of his arms, on display given that his previously-long-sleeved shirt became sleeveless a few days after Landing. As he finishes catching up with the others, Grey rests his hands on his knees for a minute before he straightens up and takes another swig of water, "Yeah… I'm down for pushin' on. Just… walkin', yeah?" He offers a smile and a nod to Gertie at her greeting, then Lark's word about being 'in tight' register, and they are all treated to proof of the fact that a dark-skinned man can blush, even if it's a little better hidden than it might be with lighter skin, "Naw. Talked to the steheda." The chief of the village. "Warned him about hydrazine," the explosive fuel, "told him it was an accident. Early launch. Tragedy even if it didn't hit anyone." He groans a little at Martin's gesture, rubbing at his thighs for a moment, then starts walking against himself. "Not gonna beat horses, but you're right. Should get there as quick as we can to help out."

"Wait. So what're we doin'? And to piggyback off even that… what are we doing, again? I wasn't paying attention." Lip may have been in a bit of a dream sequence for a while there. There's a lot of ladies on this excursion and may have been having a Lip The Barbarian moment. It takes him a little bit of time to realize that the group was trying to make a decision but he's more apt to be talking to Martin about whatever plans he has. "And for the record I'm not laying claim. I'm just saying when this inevitably turns into a clusterfuck of sexual organs and orifices? I get to go first. That's all I'm sayin'!" Lip is going to stick pretty close to Martin for these next few steps. Because that's the only one he trusts out here. "You did. I forgot to ask the most important question of all." Lip reaches out to plant his hands on Martin's shoulders. "Grounder Chicks? Hot or Not?" Lip needs to know this. IT IS CRUCIAL.

"Steheda?" Gertie's brow furrows at the unfamiliar word, though unfamiliar or not, it's filed away with the rest of the information that Grey offers up. "So they're not going to come chasing after us to stabbity-stab-stab us for it then, right?" Shoulders pull halfway to her ears, and she pulls her lower lip in between her teeth, biting on it enough that the colour is leached from it. Grey's blush? That goes unremarked upon, because it could, after all, just be that he's been jogging and is SO obviously unfit. Not. "Shit, Lip…" she goes on to say, turning her attention his way. "Seriously?"

Grey's blush makes Max's smirk only grow a bit more and he stifles a slight chuckle. "We're not going to beat horses, but we may as well not waste time." He then gives Gertie a little nudge with his shoulder and says, "Their leader.. Oxfor. Big guy. Likes fruit leather." He then continues on up the path, shouldering his pack once more. Lip gets a slight shake of the head and a kind of amused grin. He's spent hours listening to Lip ramble before, and it only seems to amuse him. "Good luck with that," he says in passing as he passes he and Martin.

Likewise, the unfamiliar word furrows Lark's brow - but Gertie asks the question, and her eyes go to her briefly. Just in time for her to look back towards Grey, noting the blush. The furrowed brow is joined by a slight curl of her lip and a cant to her head. There was a joke here, she felt, and she was missing it. "Right - it sounds like we're all in to carry on through the night, then," says the techhead.

Lip is given a long glance, "I think most people got that out of their system in the first couple weeks here," says Lark to him, bringing up a hand to brush a hand through her hair. "Unless they couldn't," she says, lifting her chin towards Lip briefly. Max's contribution draws her eyes to him. "Wait - they speak English? Like, we know how to talk to them? I am so out of the loop when it comes to grounder stuff," she murmurs.

Grey casts a glance to Martin, waiting to see if he's going to do the Gibbs-smacking or if Grey has to. He doesn't wait long though, just a heartbeat, really. The swat aimed at the back of Lip's head is light and casual, not intended to actually hurt, just sting the pride, "Some of each, just like everywhere else, Lip." Hey, he actually gave a real answer. Shrugging a little helplessly at Gertie's question, "The folks from C-Bur? Naw, I don't think so. Folks from out that-a-way?" He nods toward the east, "Who knows. Depends how pissed they are." Max's explanation of the Grounder word gets a nod, and he adds his own, "Steheda," his pronunciation is horrible, but thankfully there are no Grounders around to correct it, "means 'village chief.'" He nods at Lark's confusion, "Yeah… uh… Oxfor," he gestures with one hand up over his head by a good seven or eight inches, "came to the village. That's what the whole summit thing after that was about."

"Yeah," Max says. "Talked to their leader for a little bit when he came to the camp. He spoke English." He doesn't elaborate much more than that though as he continues on up the path, moving slow but steady. "We should figure out how to ride, start getting some of our own. Walking was alright on the station but.. there's just too much ground out here to walk it forever."

"Oh right. Him…" Gertie says, both to Max and Grey, her smile making a welcome return at the shoulder bump Max gives. Her rucksack get's a small adjustment via a hooking of her thumbs beneath the strapsa knee-bend and a jerkand then she's turning to trudge alongside her friend once more. It's perhaps no accident that her hand finds its way to the back of her belt to check on the knife that she's stashed there, her head twisting in the direction of Grey's head nod. "Nngh." And that's all that she has to say about that, it would seem, her attention returning to Max. "Maybe some of the grounders at C-Bur would trade some horses for something," she says, perhaps somewhat naively, "… though I imagine learning to ride is gonna be pretty difficult."

Martin still leads the pack, doing his survivalism thing. He shakes his head at what Gertie says. "No. They will not trade us horses. At least that is the sense I got from Afaya kom Trikru. She would sooner stab us in the faces than let us have one of her horses." He looks back at Lip to see how the other man is holding up, since he has gone a bit quiet.

"What? What?! You were thinking it!" Lip tosses those words at Gertie before he takes a moment to check out his spear. "You were all thinking it!" The one in his hand. Er, the one that was carved and will be his only weapon against whatever trouble they may come across. If any! That's when Lark's words smack him in his sould and he visibly winces. "I know. Those poor ladies and gentlemen." He felt the burn but he's rolling with this fireballed punch. "Luckily, I'm an equal opportunity sexual deviant. Then, now, later? Lip Service is always available." And there's the wink. He just had to throw in a wink. Because. It's Lip.

Max nods in Martin's direction and says, "After the summit they decided not to trade with us at all, really. So we're just going to have to wait for now.. on any kind of trade deal. Though.. never know what we might find wild out there." Glancing over at lip he raises an eyebrow and shakes his head a bit.

"Maybe once the rest of our folks come down," He nods up toward the sky, although his features darken a bit, drawing into a frown, "If they can. But yeah, once we actually have somethin' valuable, maybe we can trade." He gestures toward Martin, "And that." Lip's banter draws a groan, but he shakes his head, actually managing to grin a little. "Pretty sure that approach ain't gonna work with Grounder women, man. They seem more like the 'punching is flirting' sort." He glances over to Gertie and Lark then, "Don't know if it's workin' with our own either." At least he's laughing when he says it. "Hey Martin, you gonna be able to keep us goin' straight if we walk through the night?"

"Alright, alright," Lark tells Grey. Shifting her container over her shoulder as the conversation shifts towards Grounders proper, she works her jaw a little bit. Slipping her hands into the pockets of her jacket, she glances back towards Lip briefly, her eyes softening a touch - but he rolled with the punches. He was fine.

Eyes go forward again.

"That would have been nice, though - if we could have been… friends with them. They know how to hunt and trade - that sorta thing will be invaluable for a while. Until everyone comes down again, right - and brings the guns," she says. "Maybe that's what's in the dropships, even - food and guns," she says, kinda daydreaming a bit.

Martin chuckles at Lip's antics, "We will find you a girl as awkward and sex-starved as you, Lip, and then all will be well." Actually maybe they should point Lip toward Mimi. That would make for an interesting combination. At Grey's question, Martin waves his hand in the air in an 'I got this' manner. "Straight for the most part. I promise not to take you in circles. The real issue is our footing. Do you want to risk someone tripping and injuring themselves in the dark?"

Gertie turns, walking backwards a few steps when she catches what Lip tosses at her. It's only three steps that she takes in that fashion, but it's enough that she's able to give him a middle finger in that ancient and time-honoured gesture of 'fuck off'. Still, it's delivered with a smile, and she's quickly turning back to concentrate on where she's putting her feet. Because she's not going to be the one falling over in the dark and becoming a burden to the rest. "So just out of interest, Martin," she calls ahead. "How do you know that we're going straight?"

Max glances over at Gertie as she walks backward, more concerned about her tripping and falling on her ass than the gestures she's giving Lip. "We can figure it out when it gets dark. If we don't have enough moonlight.. we can always stop. Slow progress is still progress though." He shoves his thumbs through the loops of his pack and glances over toward Martin and then Grey.

Martin looks over his shoulder at Gertie with a smile, "Magic." He then points in the direction of the sun. "The shadows on the ground caused by the sun. I just have to account for it shifting as the day goes on. When it's night, I will use the moon and stars to keep track." Someone made sure to study up on ES! As the hike on on, he pulls out a small makeshift canteen and takes a swig of water. "We will be dog-tired, though. I figure at some point during the night, we will have to stop and rest for a while. Maybe 4 to 6 hours or so."

"And, you know, bein' able to keep walkin' for hours and hours." Grey nods his agreement with Martin, "I think at some point we should stop. Just a question of when that is." His breathing is back down to 'out for a fast walk' pace by now, and he takes another sip of water before noting to Lark, "From what the Chancellor said, there'll be tech for makin' things, guns, Guard, Agro-techs, medicine… all the stuff they couldn't spare when they weren't sure it was livable down here." Max gets a nods, "I don't know about you all, but I know I ain't gonna be able to walk all night. Not after runnin'" not literally, for the most part, "up to C-Bur and back to meet you." He nods quickly at Martin's mention of resting, "Yeah. That. Very that."

Gertie wiggles her fingers in the direction of Martin's canteen as he's lowering it from his mouth. "Can I? Please?" She has manners, apparently, or has them when she's not giving Lip the 'bird'. "Oh right. Course…" she says as she's waiting for the canteen, because surely he'll offer it over when she's asked him so nicely. "And you know what? Midnight walking has to be my most favourite thing ever. I dreamed about those on the Ark." She probably did. Along with a million other things. "And you know what's so great? The fact that the constellations make more sense when you're looking up at them from the ground instead of from inside of the ship."

"So I guess the big question is…" Lark begins, glancing between Grey and Max. "What are we gonna do if the Grounders are scrounging around in that stuff when we get there? Do you think you can talk 'em down?" A handful of moments more, and she releases a bit of a sigh, tromping forward again. "Or should we like… be prepared to trade them something?" asks Lark, biting on her lower lip with consideration. She agrees with the idea of resting, as well. Eyes glance towards Gertie at her motion, though, and there was a smile that tugs at the edges of her lips with it. "Yeah. It really makes Earth studies come together, when you're down here on the ground applying it - or are you saying you were into astronomy or something like that?" she asks.

"And with some resources down here, we can make new things to trade, figure out how to repair the stuff we have for making things.. try and make it all last as long as we can as well as figuring out how to live without it. Just in case," Max says as he walks along the path, his eyes mostly on where he's going, though he's aware of where the others are around him. Every so often he looks up and off into the woods, keeping alert as to what or who might also be out there. Looking over toward Lark, he says, "We'll talk to them.. same way we did when they came to the camp."

Martin looks to Gertie as she is reaching out for his canteen. He looks down at it then back to her in a manner that says 'You didn't bring your own?' He hands it over, though, without complaint. "So I guess we will rest sometime after midnight." Once Gertie finishes taking a swig, he puts his canteen back and continues to lead the group onwards. "Grey, you think you can manage that far?"

"Oh please. I wish a Grounder would." Lip takes a quick step or two to make sure that he's standing right next to Martin. There was a lot of female attention headed in Marty's direction so Lip arrives to help him deal with it. Of course. "The Groundhogs don't want none of this." Lip gets to flexing those skinny arms with all the confidence in two or three worlds. "Just point me at 'em and stand back. Cuz I'ma' strike like a hurricane!" Lip shadowboxes lightly. And almost punches himself in the chin. Nobody better have caught that!

Grey blinks at Gertie, "Constellations? Oh… right…" He glances up, squinting into the bright sky, then shrugs, "Are they different down here?" Apparently, he didn't look 'up' very often on the Ark. He nods at Lark, "I say we worry about helpin' people first, then worry about tech." He pauses, shrugs, nods to Max's comment, and then admits, "I mean… not to be cynical or anything, if we go in all grabby-hands, we're not gonna make many friends." Martin's question has him hitching up his bandoleer again, "I can make it as long as I gotta," he says gamely. We'll see if that's actually true. Grey may have missed Lip nearly punching himself, but the shadow-boxing itself has him rolling his eyes, "Don't tuck your thumbs under your fingers, man. You'll break 'em if you hit someone like that." He probably didn't even look to see if Lip was tucking his thumbs.

Gertie wipes her mouth on the back of her hand and grins at Martin. "Don't give me that look, I'll give you some of mine when I dig it from my pack." A tilt of her head Lark's way. "No. I just like looking at them. Wasn't much else to look at on the Ark when you looked out a window. And sorta. Kinda. Yes…" she tells Grey. "It's I dunno. More romantic looking up at them from down here." She scrunches her face at the use of that word, though her eyes show a flicker of worry at the mention of fighting grounders. "Max. You're really going to have to teach me how to fight proper, I'm still useless, or so Faolan tells me." And he's probably right. She's not the scariest, buffest nor skilled amongst those that came down. "Maybe you could help me a bit, show me some tricks or something."

Martin gives Gertie another look that says he will remember her offer, as he takes back the canteen. "It's fine. I am sure we will come across a stream or something that will let me refill it." Then lip is shadowboxing next to him and he ducks a couple of times to avoid wild haymakers. "Lip, dude! Save it for the Grounders, man. I want me jaw to remain in one piece." He gives the man another slap to the shoulder, before looking to Max and Lark. "So, if we come across a bunch of angry Grounders, do you have any experience with fighting?"

"Yeah, I can help you out a bit," Max says to Gertie. He always carries his makeshift knives, one in his boot and the other at his hip, both close at hand. Glancing over his shoulder at Martin he says, "Yeah," without further elaboration. He was part of the rescue of those captured by the Grounders and hunts regularly for the camp.

Lark did look at Lip when he made his boast - so she was watching when he punched himself, the skin around her eyes pinching a bit. She doesn't laugh at him, but her eyes turn away soon enough. "I could see that," says Lark to Gertie then. "I could see that. It used to… scare me when I looked out into space. It was like… all that nothingness. It would be so easy to get lost in that. It was Earth that held the mystery and romance to me," she says, making an open handed gesture around them.

"I got over that quick," she says with a smirk.

Lark looks to Martin with that question. "Yeah, I can handle myself - my dad made sure of that," she says. "More or less," she says, pursing her lips a bit. "Better than the Grounders, though? I suppose there's only one way to find that out, and I'd rather not, if we have the choice."

Grey frowns in thought for a long moment at Gertie's words, then nods, "Yeah, I could see that. Maybe I need to look up more often." He shrugs a little at Lark, "Oh, I dunno. I think there's still a little romance left to the Ground. Even if I decided last night that rain sucks ass." Martin's question causes Grey's frown to return again, "If we come across a buncha angry Grounders, you all run, okay? Straight the hell back to camp as quick as you can. I'll slow 'em down, then I'll be right behind you."

Lip rolls his eyes but manages to put down Thunderclap and Lightning Strike. That's right, he's managed to bust down some names for his Fists of Failure. He doesn't particularly seem shaken up by the fact that he could've just knocked himself or Martin out. He's more worried about why nobody's offering to help teach him how to fight. Although, for a moment, Lip just looks across through the gathered Delinquents and gives Grey a nod. Of Thanks. And he silently untucks his thumbs.

And then the moment of silence is over, "Meh. Earth sucks. If this is what we have to look forward to for the rest of our lives? Hiking for days through what could be dangerous territory? Just waiting to be picked off by the Groundhogs at any moment. Watching from afar as the only girl you think you've ever loved forgets you exist and — " Lip pauses when he realizes he maybe saying too much. "Uh — what were we talkin' 'bout?"

"I dunno," Max says as he wanders along, "I kind of like the rain." Though he looks over at Lip sidelong for a moment toward the end, something vaguely sympathetic in his expression. "I've found talking helps," he offers, and then says, "I think we were talking about running from angry Grounders." He looks over at Grey and says, "You think that's legit? They know where we're going right? Or are there others around not from the village we might run into?"

Martin comments to Lark, "It still has its romantic moments. It is wild, untamed, and dangerous. I think many would say they would like a lover like that." He then nods, "I have faced a panther twice and a river snake once, so I am no stranger to combat. Though, I am no good at it, if we are honest." A smirk appears on his face at Grey's words, "I see. Yes, let's leave Grey alone with the Grounders. I am sure he can wrestle them all to the ground." There is a friendly jab there. Then he hears Lip's words and just watches the man sympathetically, "Unrequited love sucks, man."

Gertie frowns over at Grey, stubbing her boot to a stone to send it scudding his way. "Like we'd just, you know, run off and leave you to deal with 'em. It's not going to happen." Her mouth skews and she pulls a breath, rubbing the tip of her nose with the flat of her hand as something dire is muttered beneath the cover of that, before she goes on to say, "I thought the idea was that we all have each other's backs." And lord knows, someone needs to have hers. She does, however, despite her distraction, pick up on what Lip says, her attention perking enough that her next words are to him. "I'll listen, if you want to talk." Uh oh. That's an offer he probably doesn't want to follow up on.

"Yeah, I think I would prefer a 'retreat' together thing, rather than a 'save yourselves, I'll hold them back' thing?" says Lark. "I don't think that works except in the stories. At best, you give us like 10 seconds. If you stay with us, it might be better - because they have horses, right?" she says, nodding in solidarity with Gertie.

That little moment of vulnerability in what Lip says draws her eyes his way. She purses her lips, letting her eyes track towards Martin then. "Yeah, maybe," she says. "I think I'd prefer something a little less fatal for my romance," she says. "But rain? I like it too, sorry, Grey. It's like… the sky reaching out and touching you. And making you freezing cold in a matter of moments, but. Yeah."

Grey shrugs at Lip's commentary on his situation, "It happens." He might even glance over at Max at that point, then snort softly and look back to the trail ahead of him. Max's question causes him to grunt, "I don't know, man. They said that there are more villages in that direction." He nods ahead to where a haze of smoke can just barely be seen through the trees now and then, many kilometers ahead, "More villages means more people, people we don't have a ceasefire with. And yeah, I loved rain when it was warm and light." He frowns at Martin and then Gertie and Lark, "I'm serious about you guys running though. I will be right behind you. But if you don't run, then I can't run either." Shrugging a little, he adds, "But I won't be leavin' anyone behind either way."

Max glances back at Grey and then looks vaguely apologetic, looking back down again and shoving his hands in his pockets. Things may have worked out in his favor, but he could still sympathise, having felt the feels and all.

<FS3> Grey rolls Athletics-3: Good Success.
<FS3> Martin rolls Athletics: Success.
<FS3> Lark rolls Athletics: Success.
<FS3> Lip rolls Athletics+1: Success.

The group walks long into the night, finally crashing down for a late (cold) meal and a bit of sleep as midnight comes around. It won't be long until they have to wake up again and press on.

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