For the Prisoner

2. The Sinking Forest

A muttered curse passed San's lips when his fingers failed yet again to create a spark with the driest pieces of wood they had been able to find in the moist forest. Sweat cast across his forehead as the cold air doused the group in a feverish humidity. The adventurer slumped to the ground with a defeated expression.

"Yunho could probably make a fire with this," he pouted as his sullen fingers threw the stones into the wet grass next to their pile.

Usually, Seonghwa would have refused to make a fire, too afraid to alert the lurking shadows of their presence. Since they were all sure the witch was aware of their presence and no one dared to voice it, however, he preferred the soothing warmth over a chilly night.

Jongho sat on a rock nearby, trying to glimpse at the stars through the roof of the gnarly trees. Since he was distracted, Wooyoung scooted over to help their desperate friend.

"Another thing the gargoyle is practical for, huh?" He retrieved one of his cheat weapons from his bag, a small firecracker that lit up with the sound of a thunderous whip if cast to the ground. It served mostly to startle wild animals or attackers into a moment of confusion. Now, he peeled its casing apart to reveal the gunpowder inside. Careful hands distributed it across the firewood.

Seonghwa sat huddled in his cape and chopped up the rabbit they had caught before entering the swamp. Their instincts to gather food had almost predicted their current trouble. He sent a wordless prayer to the heavens, thanking the Lord for the food and the sacrifice of the animal.

"We shouldn't have left all our companions good at making fires at once," Seonghwa hummed. The thought of filing them out by usefulness amused him, and he clung to the little joy it brought. It had become scarce in the past few days.

"Time to discover new survival techniques," Wooyoung replied with a shrug. Under his fingers, sparks cast heat across the logs and finally ignited them. San clapped his excited hands. As if in response, the crow that had been following them around cawed at him. San glared into the trees, not finding its black coat in the night. Their game of push and pull startled San ever so occasionally.

Wooyoung dusted his hands off and helped San fix their cooking utensils on a wobbly stick structure over the fire. They prepared the rest of their vegetables and potatoes while Seonghwa tended to the meat. Soon, they would need to replenish their provisions. If the witch eluded them further, they might have to consider returning to Briar Glen first before their return. Perhaps Yunho would come with them this time if he heard of their trouble without him? If they explained the matter at hand and how Hongjoong was incapacitated, he would have mercy on them.

San stirred the pot - something he could proudly announce he was able to do without issues in nine cases out of ten (they gladly put his skill to use) - and the others assembled in a cosy circle to leech of the warmth of the fire. As it crackled, the wood stunk of the bog and of decay, but a fire was a fire. It illuminated their little area of the forest, warding off the shadows and offering familiarity in the scary surrounding.

While they waited for the stew to be done, Wooyoung got comfortable next to Seonghwa with a litany of huffs and puffs. The roots on the ground bothered him, then a rock dug into his backside, and then his cape got stuck under his leg. With all the patience in the world, Seonghwa helped him settle down and offered to fold up a blanket for the lutin to sit on. Wooyoung refused with a dismissive wave of his hand. As he tucked his messy hair behind his ear and supported his elbows on his knees, his curious eyes studied Seonghwa's profile. At peace, the priest finished his prayer for their meal. He was used to eyes of wonder and marvel on him while he remained at peace even in stressful situations, led by the Lord. Thus, he left Wooyoung to his staring and didn't mind him until the lutin addressed him.