Pyrotechnics (Willow X Wilson) (A Don't Starve Fanfiction)

~2~

     Nighttime was approaching, and quickly. She still wasn't used to this world, but at least she had her prized possession- her lucky lighter. On the side, it had a name carved into it. Willow. Willow rushed from tree to tree, attempting to grab enough supplies to last the night. She had found an abandoned settlement, taking whatever equipment she could. The man who had brought her here had told her that there were others- fifteen others. She wanted to find them and promised herself that she would. Willow hoped she would find them without dying, though. She'd already come across spiders, hounds and even plants that would be eager for a bit more human meat in their diets. 

     As the sun's light faded from the sky, she flicked her lighter in order to see more clearly. Willow had found a path that leads south, and it was marked by a sign. She hoped she could make a camp on the road, and that someone would find her. As she began unloading her pillaged goods, she smelled something. A scent she loved- smoke. From a young age, Willow had an insatiable obsession with fire. She kept candles at all times, and she saved her money to buy her lighter. She could smell it, coming from the east. She couldn't resist the scent. She couldn't see it, but she knew it was nearby due to the intensity of the smell.

     Willow re-adjusted her purse, placing her supplies back inside of it. She had tea tree oil, good for curing infections like fungus and acne. She also had a bottle of orange oil, which was a natural antidepressant and anti-inflammatory medication. She walked with cover, lighter flicked as she walked through the dark. She spotted a fire, about five meters from the treeline. She could see the silhouette of a person beside the fire, sleeping. I've found one!  Willow celebrated, but made sure to not bother the person by the fire. Through the awkward lighting, she couldn't identify their gender, but she didn't care. She was glad she wasn't alone. She began to peek at the person, trying to see their face. She dropped her lighter, and it just had to land on a damn rock. Willow held her breath, looking back at the person. They stirred, sitting up. They heard the sound. Willow was frozen to the spot- she was afraid to move and hoped that the person would look away. They stood up, pulling a pocket knife from their pocket. Dammit, you're in for it now, Willow, she thought to herself. She looked back. They had lit a stick on fire, using it as a torch. Run, every instinct told her. The blade of the knife glistened in the firelight, and it was beautiful. Willow couldn't look away. 

     "Is someone there?" The person she'd found was male. 

     Willow couldn't say anything. She wanted to, but hesitation overtook her. She was afraid for the first time, ever since she'd burnt her home to the ground with her family inside. She finally decided it would be best to make him find her. The man came closer. She could see his face now. He looked very tired, with dark circles under his eyes. Despite that, he was good-looking, with neat raven black hair, slicked back with gel or something of the like. He was tall, much taller than Willow. He had dark eyes, which reminded Willow of her father. She didn't want to think about that now. He came even closer, just a few feet away. Willow backed away, unsure as to why. She fell onto the cold ground, and the man rounded the corner. He saw her, and his face melted from defensive to concerned in a split second. "I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you, sir.." Willow apologized. The man flicked the knife shut and knelt down on the ground. He placed the knife back in his pocket, looking up at her. She had a few cuts on her face, but nothing serious. She had already treated them with oil.

     "Are you alright?" The man asked. Willow nodded. "Oh, where are my manners? I'm Wilson, the gentleman scientist, at your service. And you are?" He asked, holding out his hand. Willow took it and Wilson pulled her up off the ground. They shook hands.

     "Willow," Willow responded, letting go of his hand. "How long have you been here, sir?" She asked, smoothing her crimson sweater and black skirt. Pine needles dusted her clothing, giving her the sweet smell of pine.