"put me in the coffin with both middle fingers up." from ellie.
text posts. accepting! /  @beforewecrashââ.Â
   dinaâs nose wrinkles, loosing a quiet huff of laughter, but she doesnât look up from the small fire set up in front of them. â youâre not dying. â she reminds her. it is cold, though, enough to chill their noses, their ears, the scant bits of skin left bared to the winter air. itâs damp, too, and a good portion of their discomfort can be attributed to the on-and-off drizzle thatâs been following them for more than a quarter of the day.within moments of her reply, ellie sneezes soundly, as if arguing her point further. the look she levels herâ as if saying see? what did i tell you?â prompts a small, lopsided smile when dina glances upward to catch it. yeah, winter isnât over yet, but, â at least it isnât spring. â and, at that: at least theyâre on the last leg of their patrol, mere moments away from a hot, crispy meal. ( two squirrels, which isnât a lot â but itâs fresh. ) theyâre both impatient to dig in.Â
   ellie swipes her nose with the back of her hand, sniffing mildly. ( dina knows she doesnât like the winter. something about the snow, the way she eyes deer tracks in the forest â ellie hasnât told, and dina hasnât asked, but she does notice. so, she fills the spaces in between. she talks enough for both of them. ) dina knocks her boot against that of her companionâs, nodding at the pack to their right side.Â
   â grab a plate, whiner. âÂ
