#bcrcavcd

It's strange, how insistent these organics are on this system. Leaving in pairs, for "safety" and "teamwork" or something stupid like that. WX-78 has never been one to care much for bringing others with them when they're working, especially when doing such menial tasks such as this, and there's so many of them. They could all get more work done if they separated, easily; or, at least, WX-78 could certainly get more work done.

They're convinced this has to be for this weird flower child, but why do they have to be the one stuck looking after her? Out HERE?

They'll never understand these people.

" WE ARE APPROACHING OUR DESTINATION. " WX-78 points out as the pair approach the mosaic biome, briefly glancing over their shoulder to verify the organic hasn't gotten lost along the way. " WE ARE HERE TO GATHER ROCKS, IN CASE YOU FORGOT. DO NOT GET DISTRACTED. "

The other person Wendy finds as she hides within the undergrowth is worrying, to say the least. She's seen enough to know that anyone who might be sentient may not be trustworthy. All she'd had on her person to defend herself was an axe for lumber, and her sister's flower. She need not summon the specter, though, as another scrape in this forlorn landscape had left her bested, and Wendy only escaping by the very skin of her teeth.

Her eyes stay plastered on the other, however, unsure of how to proceed. What would he do, if she were to emerge? Would he attack? Would he let her through? She isn't sure... If she were to be combated, would she be able to return to the Constant, or had escape closed such a branch of revival?

It was funny, that in comparison older trials felt comforting compared to this.

As her thoughts swirl, it takes her some time to realize one thing. People tended to know when they were being stared at. Wendy often knew when it was happening, and she should given this stranger the same credit. She likely didn't have much time until she was called out. So, she finally emerges, her expression not moving from its wide eyed stare toward him.

"I mean no harm to you, sir... I was merely weighing my options," she states calmly, her voice carrying the usual downtrodden monotony it always did. Her hands stay firm on the handaxe in her hands however, as if holding some form of lifeline.

From @bcrcavcd

A girl emerges from the forest; pale skin, wide eyes and long blond hair. Her hands are fixed on the axe within her grasp and he always swears he can see her knuckles turning white from the sheer force she's holding it with. Surely her hands are growing tired from gripping something so tightly.

She's calm when she speaks but he honestly know what to make of it. He's not about to call her out for lying when he hardly knows her true intention. The body can make all sorts of sounds when it's nervous after all. So he sighs a little to let his shoulders rise and fall with the motion, turning to face her fully but not moving from the spot he was standing in.

"Weighing your options?" He sounds with echo in his tone as snow colored brows raise. "Did you mean you thought of attacking me, young one?"

There is no malice in his voice as he speaks, even as white robed arms come up to cross over his chest. His weight shifts to the side as jade eyes take their time to scroll over the girl and take in the sight of her fully.

closed starter for @bcrcavcd ->

"Get me out of here, please just get me the hell out of here!" he'd begged into his radio.

He's starting to think that had been a terrible mistake. This place - whatever it is - isn't much of an improvement from Fotset. While the southern border of Amestris had been too much, this is simply not enough. The wind across his face is bitterly cold, enough to seep into his bones and make him shiver even under all his layers.

Such is what he's heard about deserts like this. Brutal and scalding when the sun's up, unbearably frigid by nightfall.

Even if he could see at night, he's also sure that there's not another person for miles. Miles and miles and miles - all empty with no other people.

The only sound coming through his handheld is due to its own interference. No other manmade devices are powered on as far as his radio can pick up.

It's just static even at higher frequencies. If he weren't shaking from the external cold, this fact alone would be enough to chill him to the core.

He turns it off, tucking it back into the bag he shoulders a moment after.

This has to be hell. His own personal version of it.

No people for miles - total isolation, or so he thinks up until he sees smoke.

Smoke is good. Maybe.

It's his best chance, regardless, so he makes his way towards it, inching ever closer as the minutes drag by.

The smoke becomes a camp, a few items set out around a pit that contains only smoldering embers. Someone's been here at least within the last few hours, and they've left their things behind. They aren't anything a typical Amestrian soldier in Fotset carries, but they are signs of human life - this human (or group) will probably be back soon.

Fuery sinks into the sand next to the hole in the ground, dropping his bag with a heavy sigh. The fire can be rekindled with... something.

Notebook. He can use one of the notebooks in his bag to start it again, then burn one of the smaller wooden boxes he uses to store loose screws. Perfect, yes, good. He can start to warm up.

His hands are numb as he rips out the pages, crumpling and tossing them into the pit in efforts to get something to catch.

The paper won't burn long, but it's enough time to get the box emptied and tossed on the fire.

He knows he has maybe ten minutes at most, but at least that ten minutes will give him time enough to warm his fingers and think.

No more than maybe five minutes in, he hears someone approaching, but he's too cold and too tired to lift his head. Instead, he speaks to address them.

Winter wasn't the easiest time in the Constant; food was scarce, the sounds of anything even remotely alive even moreso. Unless you knew what you were doing or were just as harsh as the frigid weather around you. Merciless and constantly on the move.

Wakeki was one of those things at least. Everyone else(?) around her pushing her to be the former than the latter and it usually giving into peer(?) pressure. After all, they(?) had a point; even if food couldn't be cooked. Tracking it down was still a warm meal.

Case in point; the tracks that it had been convinced(?) to follow. Small. Smaller than its own. Human? Child? Children meant potential camps. Camps meant it'd be set for weeks, even when the meals ran cold. The thought alone made its peers(?) twitch and snarl in excitement, only encouraging every step it took.

Soon it isn't just its steps that it hears, nor its own form it sees among its friends(?). A child and someone else. Like its peers but also not. It strolls over, taking the scarf around her neck (Which meal's home did she find that in?) and drapes it over the human child.

"You kids're gonna freeze out here without a lil extra warmth y'know. Ya close by a camp or somethin' in case ya gotta warm up?"

the shadows breathe peculiarly. the entity slithers from shade to shade ‘till she settles on a human silthouette. the beast’s many blue eyes open in wendy’s shadow, surveying the surroundings. she does not particularly care for the scenery, she’s simply making sure this human is alone.

once the coast seems clear, wendy’s shadow lengthens and contorts, sliding around so it sits in front of the girl. tendrils peer out of the sides, the shadow entity hoisting herself up. she still dons her raincoat look for half a second before flickering and appearing like a silhouette of wendy; a shadowy twin that has a smile with too many teeth.

@bcrcavcd said: 💨 + "This, sister, is for throwing the whole rock supply in the river."