Okay, yes, I'm well aware that everyone out there hates me for taking so long to update. And nobody wants to hear me ramble, anyway... but, oh well.
I feel like, at this point, this story would've stopped a couple of chapters ago if not for the help a select few people. I was going to post a little shout-out thingy... but I always hate those. And I've also recently acquired a phobia of author's notes, so I really want to keep it simple (like saying that helped, meh). But anyway, instead of all that, here's an interview question from a while back which covers the exact same topics:
What writers here have inspired you to keep moving forward even when the going gets tough?
As far as writing inspiration goes, Basil-Ovelby has by far been the most influential. Her masterful stories are always thought-provoking, and I reread them whenever I find myself uninspired.
Then there are the consistent reviewers, without which I would be lost. They are: SerpentPanda, DarkxKunoichi, Basil-Ovelby, and TheGreatMatsutzu.
Then there are all the readers and all the reviewers, most of whom I can't name anyway.
Then there are the people who're always willing to offer advice or be a creative vent whenever I come to a difficult situation. Those people are Brae, Xiivi, and, most recently, Foxkong (and a few others, but, well, I can't list everyone :P).
On to the story (after six freakin' months)!
The pod jarred against something, causing Fox's body to writhe against the belts holding him in place. He gritted his teeth as the waves of pain faded away. Moments later, he freed himself from his constraints. He was left with little room—hardly enough to move in—and began to feel claustrophobic.
He was here. He rattled around with the space in front of him until he could find a latch, then tugged on it.
A hydraulic door opened before him, revealing dusty, sand-colored terrain, bathed in the glow of the sun. He felt the heat even in the shade of the pod. Grunting, he lifted himself from his seat, and walked out into the wasteland. He turned around and searched the pod, emerging with a small supply bag. Unzipping it, he peeked inside, noting a compass, a few knives, and several packaged meals, which were probably loaded with preservatives and filler.
With the heat beaming down on him, he zipped the bag back up and limped around the pod, looking as far as he could in all directions. He couldn't make out any other pods.
His heart sank. Maybe Wolf didn't make it. Or maybe he just hadn't landed yet.
He sat down in pod's shadow and leaned against it, letting out a yawn. He hadn't realized how tired he was—every second, he had to struggle more and more to keep his eyes open. Right when he was about to give in, a curious sound filled the air.
It took him a moment to register what it was. His ears perked up and he jumped up to his feet, ignoring the pain. He looked around, trying to see it...
There it was! To the left, a good distance towards the hills. He watched as it descended, racing down like a shooting star.
It crashed in a beautiful explosion of dust, and Fox found himself limping towards it. It was a long and painful journey, and, by the end of it, his legs were close to collapsing and his arms were sore from hauling the bag. Soon, he could make out Wolf, climbing out of his pod and leaning against it.
"Hey! You're alive!" Fox said, coming to a stop.
Wolf shrugged, bringing up a hand to scratch at an ear. "I noticed."
Fox laughed for a bit, then there was silence—a heavy, intimidating silence.
He sat down.
There was no civilization in sight, and his teammates were probably dead. Then there was the conspiracy, which seemed so distant that he had to remind himself that it was still going on. The reality of it all hadn't set in yet, but he knew it would.
He cocked his head about, trying to make sense of the area. He assumed it was Katina, but even if it was, where exactly were they? He didn't know any large deserts on the planet.
He looked up and saw Wolf, sitting next to his pod, doodling in the sand with a clawtip.
"So, what happens now?"
"Hang on." Wolf continued doodling. Fox scooted closer and craned his neck, but he couldn't make out what the lupine was drawing. He shrugged and started creating little drawings of his own, ending up with several stick figures and an Arwing. He frowned, realizing that it probably wasn't such a great idea to stare at them, and erased them.
A few moments later, Wolf called. "You got a navigation system in there?" he said, pointing at the bag.
Fox, a little intrigued, grabbed it, unzipped it, and looked through it, tossing out several of the bulkier objects. "Nope."
"A map?"
He rifled through the bag again. "Nope."
Wolf growled. "Anything?"
Fox looked at the pile of objects he had taken out of the bag already. He picked what he thought was small compass out and held it up, staring at it—he'd never seen one outside of a textbook. "I've got this."
Wolf sighed and held out a hand. Fox threw it over to him.
"I didn't expect any better," Wolf said, fiddling with the thing. "These were probably the cheapest kits the bastard could buy."
Fox nodded, not sure what to say.
Wolf held up the compass and looked around again, then marked a few more things in the sand.
"Care to explain?"
Wolf paused, staring at his drawing. "Okay."
"When I targeted the pods, I aimed near Alcis. I figured the only way we could make it out of this alive is if we get the Great Fox. And maybe we could save your team too."
Fox nodded and started to say something, but Wolf continued.
"Seems like the targeting system was worse than I thought. I hope this compass is right, cause that's about all I have to go on right now. I don't feel like walking anywhere right now, though..." He looked at Fox. "Why don't we eat? I could use some real food."
Fox squinted. "Define 'real'."
"Yeah, yeah, you know what I mean." He stood, shuffled over to his pod, and got the bag out of it. He sat back down, opening the bag and pulling out one of the packages.
Fox pulled one out from his own bag and opened it, revealing pasta and some kind of meat. He picked the latter up and stared at it for a while. "Not my favorite, but it's edible. And not poisoned. Hopefully not poisoned." He took a bit out of it and winced. "Tastes like chicken."
Wolf raised his eyebrows and looked over at him, chuckling.
Fox ate for a while without speaking, occasionally glancing over at the lupine. When he was finished, he balled up his trash and stuffed it in the bag. It hadn't been bad—tasteless, but filling.
He looked over at Wolf, who was still eating. "What now?"
"We sleep."
Fox blinked. "Shouldn't we get moving? I mean, the longer we sit here, the worse off it gets for the rest of the team."
Wolf finished his meal, balled up the trash, and threw it off into the distance. "Use your head. We're gonna have to sleep sometime. I'd rather do it now while it's hot so we can move in the night."
Fox considered it for a few seconds. It wasn't a bad idea, and, if nothing else, it would get the drug out of his system. "I guess."
Wolf nodded, reaching around to grab his bag. "These kits wouldn't happen to have pillows in them, would they?"
"No luck. They'll prolly make good pillows, though." He stuffed his bag with all of the items he had taken out. He zipped it back up and laid it on the ground, then lay down and rested his head against it. It was stiff and lumpy, but it beat the hard, sandy earth. He closed his eyes and turned on his side to get the sun out of his eyes.
It didn't work, and the heat was almost too much to bear. He lay there for a few more minutes before sitting up. He took note of Wolf, who was laying on his side, facing towards Fox.
"Wolf."
"Yeah?"
"...It's hot."
The lupine snorted and rolled over. "It's a desert, genius. What'd you expect, moderately cloudy, temperatures in the lower eighties?"
"No, but still... couldn't we at least find some shade?"
Wolf lay there for a few more moments, then sighed and sat up "Yeah, I guess it is pretty hot..." He pulled out the compass and stared at it for a while, then gazed off in the distance. "Over there—" He pointed at a far-off, mountain-like ledge of rock. "—there's probably some shade over there, or a cave if we're lucky, and it's on the way. You up for it?"
"Yeah. It sure beats this." Fox stood, feeling his spine pop.
"Let's go," Wolf said, already standing.
Fox nodded, picking up his bag and following Wolf. The ledge was a pretty good ways off—several times the distance between their pods—and it seemed to go by a lot slower.
The farther Fox walked, the slower he had to go. By the time he was halfway there, he was panting, and his legs were once again close to collapsing. He could've sworn it had gotten hotter. Glancing over at Wolf, Fox could tell he was having difficulty as well.
Going on like this was foolish, but if Wolf could do it, he could too. He wasn't going to make his teammates suffer for his weakness.
With that in mind, Fox forced himself to continue. Left after right, over and over again. He started counting the number of steps he took, convinced that it would give him some assurance, but doing so only gave him a good idea of how unproductive he was.
He gritted his teeth. He had to stop, soon, or he was going to hurt something.
Twenty more steps. He'd do twenty more steps, then ask for a break.
He glanced over at Wolf. The lupine's eyes were on the ground, his tongue was lolling out.
Five.
How would he respond when Fox asked him if they could take a break? Would he think Fox was weak? Maybe he would understand. Maybe he was in the same situation Fox was.
Ten.
His feet would have made a poor metronome. They kept going slower and slower and slower... but Wolf's were too. Fox couldn't help but wonder if the lupine was matching his pace or if he was slowing down on his own.
Fifteen.
Each step took twice as much effort as the last one. He remembered from his drill training at the academy that the heel strikes the ground on the beat, and the heels pass on the "and." He counted in his head:
Sixteen-and-seventeen-and-eighteen...
"Push yourself forward—never pull," they had said. He pushed. With every step, he pushed.
...and-nineteen...
One more step. He closed his eyes and pushed with all his might. As soon as his heel struck the ground, he breathed a sigh of relief.
"Wolf."
Wolf took another step, then turned around. "What?"
"Can we take a break?"
"A break? Come on, we're almost there."
"No, really. I mean it. I can't go any farther."
Wolf frowned, crossing his arms. "Fine. We'll stop for a few minutes. But no more."
"Thanks." Fox tried to sit down, but his legs gave out and he almost feel to the ground. When he recovered, he ripped open the bag and took out one of the small canteens of water.
He didn't realize how thirsty he had been until he had drank the entire thing. It was old, hot, and tasted like metal, but it was the best drink he had ever had.
When he brought it down, he noticed that Wolf was looking at him, his eye narrowed.
"What?"
"Were you thirsty?"
Fox shrugged. "I guess so. Still am."
"Go a little easy on it from now on... You do realize that's all the water you have, right?"
He paused, staring at the empty canteen in front of him. "No, I didn't... still, what good's water if you aren't alive to drink it?"
Wolf eye widened. "'Aren't alive'? Did you wear yourself out that much?"
Fox avoided Wolf's gaze, making a big deal of putting the lid back on the canteen and placing it in the bag.
"If you needed to take a break, you should've asked."
Fox didn't say anything. He could feel both Lylat and Wolf beaming down on him. He became aware of the searing heat, burning him through his fur, and his thoughts once again turned towards the rest of the team. "We gotta keep moving."
Wolf squinted, like he was trying to stare into Fox's soul. "I know, but..." He turned around and looked towards the ledge. "Hey, it's not much farther, and I think I can see a cave over there."
Fox saw it too—a near-black spot on the cliff. On the bright side, they had covered nearly all the distance. He estimated that only 30 or so meters were left to the cliff. To the cave, it was a bit longer. "I'm ready whenever."
"Are you sure? I mean, you don't have to be in a hurry. Just, whenever you're ready."
Fox laughed. "Sympathy? From Wolf O'Donnell?"
Wolf looked away.
"But, really, I can't take much more of this heat. If we can just make it to the shade, I could probably get some decent rest."
"Yeah," Wolf said. "Sleep'll help, and if we can get going during the night, it'll be no problem."
"Then let's get going." Feeling a bit better, Fox pushed himself up onto his feet.
It was amazing—the lupine seemed to be in as bad a condition as Fox was, and he kept going without breathing a single complaint.
They had only been going for a few minutes now—much more slowly than before—but Fox could already feel the strain. He hadn't been this tired since camp.
Like he did back then, he set his eyes on his destination and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. It was only a few more meters. If Wolf could could do it, he could too.
Or so he had thought.
One of his legs slipped and he plummeted face-first into the sand. He let go of the bag and threw out an arm to save himself from the impact, but all that did was sprain his arm.
He lay there for a while, too humiliated and weak to get up. He lifted his head and tried to spit out the sand, noticing Wolf hovering above him, his teeth jutting out in a grin.
"You alright?"
"Oh, yeah." Fox spat again. "I'm perfectly fine."
"Why don't we take another break?" Wolf sat down beside him, a little cloud of dust forming from the impact.
"Why not?" Fox said, aware that he didn't really have a choice. He rolled over and sat up, pausing a moment to dust himself off. He had to lean over a bit to pick up the bag, which he had thrown a good ways. He unzipped it, pulled out the full canteen, and a took a long draft from it, swishing the water around a bit to get all the sand. He swallowed, coughing a few times as the dirt washed down his throat.
He glanced over at Wolf, who was screwing the lid back on one of his canteens. "You ready to go?"
"You know, you don't to be in such a big rush." Wolf unscrewed the lid and took another small sip.
Fox felt his fur bristle. "I don't? The more time we spend here, the less likely it is for my team to be alive, okay?"
"Is that what this is all about?"
"What do you expect me to do, take my time? They could be dying!"
Wolf dropped the canteen, not looking at Fox. "Stop for a minute and think, would you? Do you even know how long we were trapped in that place? If they were going to die, they would have already been dead by now. Chances are, even if they were alive, that they've already left."
"They wouldn't leave without me."
"Yes, they would. Would you stay at an abandoned military base for a week hoping for one guy to turn up if two others were dying from a bomb?"
Fox started to say something, but stopped himself.
"Yeah. Exactly. Look, man," he said, looking Fox in the eye, "you've got to think. You're trying to be the big hero and rush over there to save them. You're not in the condition to do that. If you break a leg or pull a muscle trying to play hero, you'll never make it. You might even die." He waved an arm. "Then who'd be the hero?"
"But," Fox started, thinking about Wolf's legs, "you're doing fine—"
"I'm a wanted mercenary. I'm used to this—running, hiding. But you've never had to do any of that. I'd be willing to bet the toughest thing you've ever done is boot camp."
Fox hesitated, then nodded.
"You can't expect yourself to keep up with me. Stop trying."
Fox rested his forehead in his hands, feeling the corners of his mouth turn down. "Then why are we even going back? If they left, the Great Fox would be gone, too."
"Because," Wolf said, looking away, his voice cracking, "that's all we have left."
Fox stared at the sand, paralyzed. It all made sense now.
He buried his face in his hands, tears already starting to form
"Hey." Fox heard shifting from Wolf's direction. "Hey, are you alright?"
"Leave me alone," Fox said. He hadn't believed the reality of everything before, but now...
He clenched his fingers, wincing as he yanked out clumps of fur.
They'd warned him not to trust Wolf. If he would've listened, then they'd all still be in the Great Fox, enjoying full meals, soft beds, and air conditioning. Sweet, cool air conditioning.
"Sheesh... I didn't mean to—"
Fox snapped his head to focus on Wolf, squinting in the glare of the sun. "It's all your fault!"
Wolf recoiled, his eyes opening wide. "What?"
For a few moments, he couldn't form a coherent sound. "I had everything I could ever want. I was on vacation. Then you had to show up and ruin everything!"
Wolf's head was darting from side to side now. He opened his mouth to speak, but Fox didn't care.
"They told me not to listen to you. But I..." Fox fumbled for words. "You tricked me."
"Hey, none of this was my fault, okay?"
"Like I believe that." Fox stood up, the quick motion sending a jolt of pain through him. A wave of dizziness swept through him when he reached his full height, causing him to keel over, panting, resting his hands on his knees.
He head sounds of movement beside him. "Whoa, okay, I get it. The heat's getting to you. Just sit down, and try to relax."
Fox felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. He jerked away from it, then took a few stumbling steps in the opposite direction, feeling nauseated.
Wolf said something, but Fox couldn't make out the worlds. Everything was spinning. He had to get away. He took a few more steps, then realized that his face was buried in the sand again.
His eyes burned for a while, then, there was nothing.