(im fucking listening to caramelldansen right now)
(also this chapter has some hidden foreshadowing :) i am planning something evil)
my body ached from sleeping on my arms that were tied behind my back, and i was cold from sleeping outside tied to a tree. pomegranate made sure that i was far away from the fire, lest i kick the embers at a tent and roast them in their sleep.
i think I've slept for three total minutes, not consecutive of course. the second i'd finally pass out from exhaustion a cold breeze would jolt me awake, or some bug or small animal would climb on me. and halfway through the night it began sprinkling, just long enough to make me uncomfortably damp.
now i was watching the sun rise, too tired to be bothered by my circumstances anymore.
i didn't even turn my head towards the rustling in one of the tents as someone woke up. when i heard red velvets voice i didn't look, i was fucking tired of pity, i didn't need it. pity won't take me back home.
after red velvet someone else joined him, im guessing dark choco. just as the sky went from pink to blue the last person woke up, and they began packing up camp.
red velvet untied me and threw me over his shoulder, they didn't bother letting me walk as i collapsed yesterday.
"why are you wet?" he asked as he grabbed onto my legs,
"rained." i answered, my voice was hoarse, probably because pomegranate hadn't let me eat at all, the only water i've had was some that red velvet let me have behind her back.
"alright we'll get home today so no more complaining." pomegranate glared at licorice, then turned her attention to red velvet, "if he's strong as you say he is he should have no trouble walking. at least don't hold him like that, blood will rush to his head." she huffed then lead the group like she had the last two days.
instead of dropping me red velvet just held me against his chest with his monster arm, i didn't care though, it was a little more comfortable at least.
i couldn't focus on anything except the feeling that this was eerily familiar, being a prisoner. the feeling of rope burn on my wrists was like a distant memory rather than a new experience, after all i did already have scars on my wrists.
what the hell was i before this? some kind of soldier? that would explain the muscle mass and all the scars.
but what about that thought i had, back at camp? "i can't lose them again"? what the hell was that about? i have so many questions, and to be honest i'm not sure if i even want the answers.
before i didn't care about my missing memories, but that was because i was happy making new ones with my friends. but now i didn't know what to do with myself.
three days in and i'm miserable. i was miserable the second i walked out of that camp with the notion that i'd never return. i'll never return.
be stoic. emotions are weak, be strong, at least in front of your enemies, be strong.
---
herb, custard, and cotton really had their work cut out for them these passed couple of days, they were healing everyone the best they could, putting every ounce of energy into healing or making potions and medicines from hazy memories, anything they could do to heal the airborne toxin that had decimated their camp.
the people who had cuts and stab wounds were easy enough to take care of, but the ones unlucky enough to be close to the mushroom headed child was in rough shape, and this infection was like nothing they had ever seen before.
