Blood springs eternal {Half-baked vs. Bufflebara, Day 2}

[Python]

Ingrid Elwyn

They collapsed like dominos.

The mutt that had clashed with her moments ago was staggering when she turned her head, a mass of blood and matted fur and quivering muscles until its body fell limp into the sand. One down, one to go. The desperation seemed to enliven her friends, for they made short work of the last survivor by crippling its limbs with vicious thrusts of steel. Soon it was teetering on damaged hooves and making blood trails in the sand, groaning until its chest gave one final heave. She walked over to each corpse and checked for any signs of life, and when her suspicions vanished she wiped beads of sweat from her brow and used her hand as a visor to block the sun. By the looks of it the coast was clear. They had eliminated all threats within the vicinity and could finally take a breather. But at what cost? Broken bones and wounds needed tending to. Ingrid had escaped with only a bruise, but her friends were not so fortunate.

She stared at the abominations in all their “capitol glory” and realized something. Mutations or not, these were animals; thick, meaty mammals that would soon start to wither away in this heat. The sand would surely bury their bodies and mask the odor of rotting flesh if Ingrid left them as they were, but why waste perfectly good meat? ”Do either of you know how to skin an animal?” she asked, kneeling in front of the beast she had slaughtered. It was too heavy to turn over, but she could made due as long as she had access to its belly. With her knife she made a shallow incision in its abdomen, careful not to plunge the edge too deeply inside, and started to split the hide from tail to throat.

The blistering heat bore down on her back as she worked. There were towers to provide temporary shade, but she could not heave dead weight over to those safe spots. Skinning these brutes would be grueling labor that left them frustrated if they helped, but it would be worth it in the end with fresh meat in their bags. We need food, and not just those plants Potato found in the ugly garden. This would fill their bellies and give them extra strength for the days ahead. But we have to work quickly, because this unrelenting heat would amplify the effects of decay. She didn’t want the meat to spoil in these bodies before they could cut it out and store it for later. ”You can work on the other one if you want, I can do this one on my own,” she said, sliding her blade under the skin to sever the fibers between hide and muscle. She started to peel the flesh back as she addressed them again. ”It doesn’t have to be perfect, we just need to do it quickly before their bodies start to rot.”

They deserved their reward, after all.

By the time she was finished with the ordeal – the skinning, the slicing, the draining, all of it – her arms were coated in mutation’s blood, and there was nowhere to wipe it but on her white t-shirt. It smeared across the fabric like red finger-paint, but her leather vest managed to hide most of the gore. The sand made it worse, clinging to every wet spot it could find. There was sand on the meat as well, but without any water there was no way to wash it all off. Still, they were better off than they were previously. They had sharp weapons, edible plants, and now fresh meat ready to be cooked. All they needed was a fire, and in this awful heat it a flame shouldn’t be that difficult to conjure.

She retreated to the shade as two cannon blasts bounced from tower to tower, one just a minute after the other. Signals of human deaths. One of them could’ve been Siren, the other could’ve been that Gavin kid she met in the training center. Or it could be the careers.

She shrugged and picked at the blood beneath her fingernails. It doesn’t matter.

[Ingrid uses first aid on Sonja and puts two servings of meat into her rucksack]

[k!ah]

You fly at the beast, all intentions of making it hurt because you hurt and you wanted it to know how it felt. You face twists in pain as you use your injured arm to grasp onto your knife more tightly, putting even more strength behind it. The beast turn to go for you but you duck and slash your knife out catching the beast well and truly in the hoove. If the thing had of had feet you knew that a toe or two would no longer be attached. A howl of pain escapes the creatures mouth and it almost falls to the ground. You watch as it cries and begs for what you would assume mercy. But then Potato moves forward and without to much as a second thought plunges his blade into the beasts skin, cutting off its cries once and for all.

The body no longer moved, a deathly stillness taking over its form. Your knees go weak and you fall to the ground, your knife landing on the ground beside you with a quiet thump. Your whole left arm felt was surging with pain and it took all you had to hold back the tears. You would not cry, you couldn't cry because that was a sign of weakness, a sign that you were breaking and you couldn't break yet. you had only been in this hell hole for just over 24 hours, you had to hold yourself together for your own sake. Watching the others, the way in grind gently applies first aid to your injured arm and the way Potato’s eyes flashed with anger and concern made you think twice about how you doubted their trust. It was obvious that they didn't want you to die- if they had of they would have left that beast to finish you off, they would have fled without a moments thought. But they didn’t, they stayed and in the end they helped with your injuries… Didn’t… didn't that mean you could trust them? if not fully then a little bit?

Ingrid is over at the beast she had killed and she asked if we have ever skin an animal before. Your stomach churns and you are almost certain that if you had not thrown up early that you would have now. You mumble a quiet ‘no’ and you are unsure if she had even heard it. She says that she will do the one she is standing at and that we should do tho one. You look over at Potato before climbing to your feet and walking over to the second dead beast. The sun beat down on you and you were almost certain that if you waited to long that the mean would start to go off or some scavenger would finish it off. Swallowing hard you crouch down over the body and push your knife onto the flesh, tilting it up to catch the skin. You move it to the side and watch as blood oozes and drips down the side and coats your hands.

You scrunch your nose up but keep working, knowing that you were doing it wrong because you were pretty sure there shouldn't be this much blood. but you don't stop because Ingrid was right, the meat would rot soon and we needed it. Carefully you carve out as much meat as you can before placing it in our saddle back. You knew that it would probe smell the thing out but you had to do what you had to do and you had to eat, their was no questions to ask, that was how life is.

Happy, you climb back to your feet before studying your wound, you give t a few touch ups, cleaning the wound to the best you can with no water or any liquid before wrapping it back up. The wind was deep, the deepest wound you had ever received and by the love of Ripred did it hurt. You had never experienced anything like it, you could only imagine the pain Potato must be in with his broken wrist. You glance over at him again and watch as he wraps bandages firmly round he broken area, you want to go over and help him but something catches your eye. It was one of those silver parachutes and it lads a few feet ahead of you. Walking over to it, you pick it up and electing it to be for one of the others. But to your surprise it is your name that is printed on the piece of paper and you rip open the box to see a canteen tucked away safely. A sense of happiness fills you and your rip open the lid and bring the bottle to your lips expecting a stream of cold water to flow into your mouth- but nothing comes. Frowning you look into the bottle to see that it was empty.

Slightly frustrated you throw the thing into your bag before you hear the two cannon lasts.

Two more down, how many was oft to go? sixteen was it?

(Flees)

(Does first aid on self -3)

(Receives first aid from Ingrid-3)
Collects two meant of meat)
(receives empty water jug from sponsors)

[gamemaker kelsier]

P O T A T O  E A R N E S T

{Filler} 

(flees)

(uses f/a on self for -3)

(uses med plant for -2)

(uses 5ft of bandages for -1)

(collects two servings of meat)