"Jethro? Jethro!"

The boy tried to feign unconsciousness, but one quick jab to the ribs assured to anyone around him that he was indeed awake after he flinched.

"I'm giving you about ten seconds to explain why you're in my bed."

Jethro hesitated. He wasn't sure what to say, or if he should say anything at all. He didn't expect her to wake up so soon. He looked around the patchwork bedding before noticing a rather imposing shadow being case over him. He turned about to see a rather cross looking Yvonne standing outside the lean-to with a scowl plastered on her face. The dried blood spattered on her forehead made her seem all the more frightening.

"And if you're up to it, would you care to tell me there's a hole in my head and why my blouse has been torn to shit?" she said, pointing to the slipshod bandage loosely fastened around her head.

Oh. That's what they're called. 

"When we first met up in the woods, I- you- you had a nasty fall after your foot got snagged on something. I couldn't just leave you there to bleed!" Jethro wanted to tell her the truth, but something stopped him. He choked up every time he tried to explain to her that he'd attempted to brain the Baba-Yaga, but only succeeded in bashing his friend over the head with a stone. Upon hearing those words, her expression softened, but she still looked miffed about it all.

"That's one, now how about you tell me why I woke up with a straggler in my bed this morning."

"I got cold." Jethro said, rather bluntly. He found it much easier to speak when we wasn't forced to lie through his teeth.

"You got cold? So you're telling me that instead of starting the fire back up like a normal person, you thought you could have a go at creeping into my bed while I slept?"

"No! Well, yes, but you've got to let me speak for a second. Initially, I opted to take watch over the camp, and make sure that you were still doing okay. Some time in and I realized that I couldn't keep it up forever, so I tried to sleep. Have you ever slept out in the cold?"

"Where are you going with this?" she asked, her voice laced with suspicion.

"It's a lot more difficult than it seems. Try as I might, I couldn't fight the elements, so I crawled into the shelter and laid down, opting to sleep for a little while. As you can tell by this current situation, I slept for a little more than 'a while' ," Jethro continued, opting to completely bypass her question.

She paused for a moment after Jethro spoke to ensure that he was finally finished with his spiel before waving her hand dismissively and turning around to walk off to another corner of the camp.

"Whatever, man. I'm not mad at you or anything, but for future reference, I'd strongly prefer that you stay the hell away from me when I sleep." she said as she started to walk off. Despite her words, she still carried the face of mild irritation, and she kept pressing her fingers against her temples when she thought that Jethro wasn't looking.

As much as he wanted to stay encapsulated in that warm bedding, the fact that it was as of now strictly forbidden to him made him want to leave it as soon as possible. With an inelegance that only a farm-boy far out of his league could manage, Jethro threw aside the bedding, and stumbled out of the lean-to. The dawn's sun shone down on him. After last night's debacle, he wasn't sure if he'd ever get to see it again -- but there it was. There are very few things that one could count on this this world, but the sun was always one of them. No matter what happened, you could always expect the sun to rise come morn. Even through the horrors of the famine and war, the sun never once failed to make itself known. Even when masked by clouds or shrouded by fog, the sun still remained. It had a sort of work ethic that Jethro could only dream of attaining. He-

"Are you just gonna stare at the sun? I could use a little help."

"Er, I'm sorry, what was I supposed to be... doing?" Jethro said as he vigorously rubbed his eyes. His ears burned as he realized that she was probably staring at him ogle the sun for a good thirty seconds before she snapped him out of it. Like other bad thoughts, he decided that he just shouldn't think about it for now.

"If we're even going to consider making it to the base of Bulwark today, we need need to break camp. Grab your shit and move it over to the stockpile I've set up so we can sort it out and decide what comes with us."

"I didn't bring anything else" he said rather sheepishly. Yvonne looked like she was about to say something that'd tear Jethro in two, but all of a sudden, she began to wince and clutch as the side of her head.

"For fucks- augh! It's fine! Just help me sort out what we've already got, we'll deal with the issues later."

Jethro nodded and trailed behind Yvonne as she lead him to a small cache of supplies. She'd suspended several jute backs and a rucksack from a scorched tree that had enough integrity left in its branches. He began taking down the bags from the trees, staining his hands with soot as he scaled the ashen pines. As he worked, he occasionally snuck a glance over at Yvonne. She wasn't looking to hot. He could hear her constantly swearing under her breath, and clutched at her head. 

How hard did I hit her?  Was all he could think as he watched her frustrations grow with every passing minute. He was glad that she was "okay" for the most part, but had a lingering feeling of worry deep in his gut that something was seriously wrong with  this situation. 

Just don't think about it. It's not important right now.

Eventually, he had gotten all of the bags down, and emptied their contents out onto the forest floor and began to count them. It almost immediately became evident that strict rationing was going to have to be enacted if they're going to go through with this. Jethro noticed that Yvonne packed only for herself, and even then had packed rather sparsely. She carried, as follows, four metal canteens of varying sizes, a biscuit tin, which upon further inspection, actually contained what appeared to be gourd seeds, several loaves of a flat, coarse, bread wrapped in wax paper, and a handful of prickly-pears. This alone would last the two of us three, maybe four days at maximum. To get his mind off the food situation, he began to catalog the other supplies. Somehow, Yvonne had manage to get her hands on a crowbar, a book of matches, a bundle of home-wrapped torches, and-

Oh.

Jethro wasn't sure what to make of this. Reaching into the rucksack, he pulled forth a strange artefact of an age long past. He knew it was a tool of some sort, as it possessed a wood grip that seemed just meant for his hand, and a tapered metal body made of a blued metal that was cool to the touch. It had a cylinder in the middle of it held in place with a pin. As he ran his hands along it, he discovered that by applying enough pressure, the cylinder would move with a satisfying click. He wasn't sure why, but he liked this thing, and he wanted to keep it it clenched in his grasp. So much so, that he felt the need to conceal it in his palm as Yvonne came checking up on him.

"Hey, how's it looking?" she mumbled. Jethro could tell that she was trying her best to be polite, but she did not want to be here right now.

"If we're careful, we'll manage. We might be able to scavenge for food if we-"

"What have you got there in your hand?" Yvonne said, cutting him off.

"I-"

"What have you got in your hand?" she repeated.

Like a child caught stealing from the pantry, Jethro looked cast his gaze aside as he showed her his findings. He wasn't quite sure why he felt guilty, but he knew that he must feel so, for it is proper. Yvonne eyed the tool nervously, and began to reach for his. Upon seeing that she meant to take it from Jethro began to withdraw his arm. Quick as lightning, Yvonne lunged forward and took it from him before he'd even noticed what was happening. Jethro watched in awe as she twirled the trinket around before managing to balance it upon one finger, where she then deftly spun the tool around several times before quickly concealing it in the back of her trouser pocket with a flourish. The whole movement seemed so graceful, perhaps even snakelike. It was obvious that she'd spent time honing that one trick over and over again. 

"What was that?" Jethro managed to asked, shaking off the amazement.

"I'm going to need you to not worry about it for now, okay? I'd love to explain it, but I'm really not feeling up to it right now" She said, as that familiar pained look began to creep across her face. "Maybe not ever." 

She looked down at the supplies, then slowly back to Jethro. "It looks like you've still got a bit of work to do. Get that sorted out, and we should be ready to move in half an hour." she said hollowly. Even though she was staring directly at Jethro as she spoke, he couldn't help but get the feeling that she was staring straight through him.

It seemed that he wasn't the only one keeping secrets around here.