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THE STOCKPILE
(Day 3 - Afternoon)
Sunlight falls in long stripes across the dusty ground. The Cornucopia gleams in the golden light, an abstract swoop of metal. Its gaping mouth spills out nothing but wreckage.
Rapunzel treads carefully as she wanders among the looted remnants of the feast. This place is a sunny graveyard, littered with broken crates, slashed nets, and empty sacks. The Careers have picked it clean of anything useful; but there are still splashes of blood on the dusty ground. She shivers.
"Over here!" It's the Career boy, rooting around in the bushes at the edge of the clearing. Rapunzel trots over to join him.
He's crouched on his haunches, grinning up at her triumphantly. "Here," he says, and yanks up a layer of burlap sacking and branches that she hadn't even noticed. Whoever camouflaged this stockpile knew what they were doing. "We couldn't carry everything, and we didn't want to leave it for anyone else to find. Ha!"
A shallow hole has been scratched in the earth, and it's brimming with equipment and food.
They both kneel and start sorting through their options. It's mostly survival rations, nothing fancy; lightweight and easy to eat on the run. Rapunzel piles the packets by food group, then pauses to consider which ones they'll need most. Opposite her, the boy has yanked up his long sleeves and is busily strapping a fresh set of sheathed knives around his forearms.
He has nice hands. Strong and well-shaped, with sturdy fingers that handle the buckles and straps with grace…
"You okay, Blondie?"
Rapunzel blinks. "Huh?"
He tugs the last strap into place with a wince, and peers at his bandaged hand suspiciously. "It's not bleeding again…is it?"
She ducks her head, her cheeks suddenly tingling and warm. "Sorry," she mumbles, and begins stuffing packets of food into her knapsack. "It's, um, just a little dirty, that's all." It's not a lie. She'll have to change it again tonight.
Dried fruit, jerked meat - high-energy foods that will keep. A few packets of dried soup, and a cast-iron skillet and tripod for cooking; it's a silly luxury, but the idea of a hot meal is too tempting to resist.
"Here," she says, and reaches across the pit to hand the boy some salted beef. "Make sure you're carrying some food, too, all right? Otherwise you're going to end up pretty hungry if something happens to me…"
The boy stops rifling through a stack of knives and sits up, staring at her outstretched arm. She can almost see the gears turning in his head, the Career training kicking in. They're sitting on either side of a literal pile of weapons. He could seize her wrist, drag her in close, and kill her before she could scream.
But the moment stretches on, and he just sits there. Frowning at her, like she's a puzzle he can't quite work out. His eyes are a warm shade of brown, with surprisingly long lashes for a boy.
"You, um, never told me your name," she blurts, and - thankfully - it breaks the tension.
"Huh," he says, and accepts the bag of jerky, tossing it once in the air before cramming it into his knapsack. "Didn't I? It's Flynn. Flynn Rider, lately of District One. Pleased to make your acquaintance." He sketches a little half bow at her without actually standing up. Rapunzel can't help smiling.
"Nice to meet you, too, Flynn," she says. "So… How did you end up as a Career, anyway?"