Survival of the Fittest- Flashpoint

| Two |

There was no time to waste. All the chests would be empty if they didn't hurry. Both Emburn and Tidal went their own ways with the same idea in mind: loot as many chests as you can.
Emburn found a chest that seemingly slipped out of the plane's storage compartment during as soon as it stopped skidding through the ground. Brushing the bits of dirt off of it, she opened it, only to find a small bag of minimal cookies and two leather belts.
'They have some things you may need for your success', Emburn quoted in her head. How're these supposed to help?
Under the belts and the poor bag of cookies, she found a small pistol of sorts. It didn't look like a normal pistol, though. Why would she need to use it when she already had a weapon: claws. Leaving the strange pistol behind, she took the belts and cookies front of the plane. She was the first one there. The rest of the competitors were already dispersing by the time Tidal showed up.
"I searched through every chest I could find," he explained. "All I found was the old backpack."
"Better than what I got," Emburn pointed out. "Two belts and some cookies."
"Better than nothing," Tidal said. "Let's keep the cookies in the pack. And we can use the belts to hold any weapons we find. Unless you plan on whipping our competitions to death."
Emburn laughed. "Yeah, alright." She handed him the cookies and a belt before strapping her own on around her waist. It was near as uncomfortable as the seat belt before the crash. Tidal already had his on and now was setting the cookies in the backpack before swinging it over his shoulder.
"Speaking of weapons," he brought up. "Did you happen to find any?"
"One," Emburn answered. "Over here." She waved for him to follow. She led him to the chest she came across and opened it for the second time. She paused. The pistol was gone.
"Well," she turned to her friend. "It was here."
"Welp," Tidal said. "Someone else must've taken it."
"Yeah," Emburn closed the chest. "So, where to first?"

*   *   *

Most of the chests had been looted already. Emburn wished they were first to set off; the other players probably already got the best stuff, now. Her and Tidal were stuck with belts, a backpack, and very few cookies. How could they end up part of the top three with only that? Surely they'd come across something good. They had to, and soon.
But that made Emburn think of something else; something that the mysterious figure said: "I can't wait to see which of you is the last to stand." If there is only one team to survive the games, how does the top three get a prize?
"A slime-brain that one is," she spat.
"What do you mean?" Tidal asked, his eyes still fixed on the area ahead of them.
"That freak we just met," Emburn told him. "They said a single team would survive. But-"
"The top three get a prize," he finished for her. "I did just notice that, too. It is strange."
"It's bait, I tell you," Emburn said. "A cheap trick. A lie. We'll end up dead by the end of this."
"It's possible," Tidal agreed. "We can still try to get into the top three, specifically first. Just in case." He seemed so calm about the whole ordeal. Yet, Emburn couldn't help but think: what if he was wrong? What if the outcome was only death, no matter what place they took? She chose not to think too much about it, for now. Tidal was right; they can still try to get into the top three- or first, for that matter. They were good enough for that.
Right?
The duo stopped to check another chest. It was stuck on a tree, so Emburn went to check it while Tidal kept watch. She dug her claws into the sturdy bark of the trunk and climbed up to the chest. It was slightly difficult to open with one paw. Finally, it had stuff in it. It wasn't much, but it beats finding nothing seven times.
"Leather chestplate and a wooden sword," Emburn informed Tidal. She held onto both items and dropped down next to the TV robots.
"Here," she held out the armor and weapon for him to take.
"Keep them," he insisted.
"I guess I can take the chestplate," she admitted. "You take the sword. I have claws, you don't."
Tidal was silent for a moment before he accepted the sword. "Alright. Thanks."
"No problem," Emburn gave him a smile. As he strapped the sword onto his belt, she slipped the chestplate on. She could only imagine what cats in sweaters felt. It pressed against her pelt, keeping her fur flat against her skin. Although, as ridiculous as it felt, she had to go on with it. At least there was room to stretch her wings out freely.
"Now we stand a but of a chance," Tidal brought up.
'A bit of a chance', Emburn echoed in he head as they continued on. She hoped "a bit" was enough to make it through this heck-hole.