Grumble grumble. Sure, maybe she racked up some bad karma for burning the treeguard, but come on! Those things could be so annoying when one needed firewood! Now, Willow felt she was being punished by a cold, autumn rain threatening the light of her lighter as she trudged homeward. “This is so stupid.”
Survival was survival, and Charlie could admire those who found creative solutions to their problems. Afterall, she had found herself in sticky situations more and more since becoming a survivor.
It was bad enough that it was starting to creep dangerously close to dark, but as if to rub salt in the wound the sky parted and it began to rain, hard. A chill runs down Charlie’s spine at the sudden coldness overtaking her, and without much thought she reaches into her pack for the umbrella she had found next to some skeleton. As if she’d ever have the foresight to make one herself.
Beggining to trudge in the direction of her own camp, Charlie stops to squint at the small flickering light she sees in the distance. A flame? Coming a bit closer she realizes that she recognizes it’s wielder, none other than the firestarter herself. But the flame wouldn’t last long in this rain and besides, it’d be nice if they could share what scarce light it might provide. Quickly, Charlie makes her way over to where Willow is, and holds the umbrella up to protect the firestarter and her flame. “I’m sorry to bother you miss, I was worried your light would go out in the rain.”
