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A green thumb was something Freya lacked. Back in preschool, when tasked with planting a carrot seed, four-year-old Freya had instead decimated a mouthful of dirt.
She couldn't prove it, but she was almost certain it was why her mother never asked for assistance in their garden back home. She and nature were incompatible ── repellent to each other ── and more than comfortable with the fact for the sake of both their safeties.
But now, in the wake of the world, Freya had been assigned camp chores. Foraging, specifically. Just her luck.
"You sure you don't want this?" Amy Harrison held up a small, shovel-like object. Its silver surface reflected the glazing globe above, momentarily blinding Freya. "The, uh . . . Oh, god ── I forgot its name."
"It's a towel," said Freya, twisting her neck to avoid eye contact with the wretched little tool. "Dale told me."
"Towel?"
"Yeah, I've got no idea why. I thought it was weird, but it's what he said."
Amy stared down at the 'Towel', the bridge between her brows creasing as she scrutinised it. "No, that can't be right."
A shrug lifted Freya's shoulders. "Take it up with Dale." She crouched down beside a partially-trampled patch of dirt and swept the side of her hand across it, launching a flurry of dirt and god knows whatelse through the air. "Aha! First time lucky ── you got a camera? I'd like to capture this for my mom."
Shaking her head, Amy released a soft laugh and sunk down beside Freya, placing an (empty) red bucket between them both. She reached out and seized one of the newly-discovered mushrooms, rolling it around her palm. "Could be poisonous."
"One way to find out──"
"── Freya, no!"
Amy swatted Freya's hand out of its path before contact could be made with any questionable mushrooms. "Are you insane?"
"I'm gonna be," proclaimed Freya indignantly. She crossed her arms and expelled a frustrated sigh. "If I have to eat fish for another night, I may actually kill someone. So, you can have that on your conscience."
"I'll take that." Amy gathered up the rest of the fungi and deposited them into the bucket, wiping her hands on her denim-clad knee. "At least, over your actual death right now." Standing up, she extended a hand to Freya, frowning until the teen reluctantly took it and used it to pull herself up. "Come on, there's gotta be so many better ways to die than mushrooms."
Freya raised an intrigued brow as they began their walk back to camp. "Like what?"
"Heart attack at ninety-three?" Amy proposed, a vexing grin upturning her lips.
