Saturday.

[walkswithheroes]

Fred is tired. Exhausted, more like. She's hungry and dirty, and for a moment, she has to make herself remember that she's not back on Pylea all over again. At least this time, there are other people with her and no one's being made to shovel demon horse poo, but the situation is still less than ideal. It makes her realize that this time, there's no one to miss her, no one who will wonder where she's gone to if she doesn't make it back. It's something that she tries to push out of her mind as the night goes on, knowing that there are more important things to focus on. Like the next thing that the game conjures up.

They've spent most of the night fighting the poisonous and deadly vines that turned up after Alistair's roll of the die, beating them back with branches and shooting at them while Alistair cut at the ones he could with his sword. Someone's almost hit by what Fred later realizes is a poisonous stinger, but they all manage to make it through mostly unscathed.

They find a spot to settle for the moment, and Fred sets the game down in front of her, opening it up to reveal the game board inside.

"Okay, so who's next?"

Comments

[fakejaded.livejournal.com]

Britta felt like she might be sick. Somehow they had walked right into a horror movie from the Nineties and all they could do was keep playing. That it was her turn next hadn't escaped her notice, but how could they possibly roll again when that guy was out there? Standing by the side, she leaned back against the rock and closed her eyes, pushing her hair back. She should have offered to help somehow, she knew that, but there wasn't anything she could do, anything she was good at, and she wanted suddenly to stay far away, as if by distancing herself from the group, she could keep herself separate from everything happening, keep it from happening to her.