Author's Authorial Authorism: Feeling frisky. Three updates this week. Second on Thursday (6/13), third on Friday/Saturday (6/14 or 15). Thanks for the support, everyone.

The walk back was shorter than Lara had expected it to be. Her sense of time seemed to stretch out in her pursuit of him, then clench and diminish when they began talking. It seemed more profound in retrospect, when they began coming to the edge of the impromptu camp and she realized she wanted more time to speak with him, or interact, or something. It wasn't terribly clear to hear, the sensation, and at once she knew intrinsically that it was something less than platonic. If Snake understand and felt likewise, he gave no signifier. For that matter, neither did she; she wasn't a bloody schoolgirl, she didn't' wheedle or verbally stumble over him. But it was a draw, and she tried her best to chalk it up to the adrenaline that had, less than hours prior, dominated her circulatory system.

What he knew, in short order, wasn't much, but it most certainly was an improvement from the trepidation Otacon had inadvertently nurtured in her. The woman Snake had seen had been accompanied by a four-man escort of guerillas, and each was heavily armed. Lara opined that perhaps she was some sort of general, but Snake seemed unconvinced, which opened up the possibility that she was a commander of some sort for the group. Of that, they had no concrete conclusion. Snake also mentioned her description: thin, with a severity of feature that did not quite seem likely of a South American woman, and with blonde hair it all but ruled out the idea of the uprising's indigenous origins.

"Although it might seem like a bit of an odd question, if you had to place them on a scale of intent to kill us?"

Snake glanced at her, casting away his second cigarette as they approached the camp. "Eight."

"Well, it's not a ten, so by God I'll take it."

As the clearing began its proximity close enough they could hear the babbling of water over rocks, for the first time Snake seemed faint, and leaned against a tree without any warning, the colour draining from his face.

Lara turned to look at him, thinking he had just taken a lean so he could relight his cigarette, the air being as moist as it was. Instead, she found him pained, lips drawn back to bare teeth, veins quietly throbbing in the sinew of his neck. "Snake?" She put a hand on his shoulder, felt the muscle beneath the cloth tighten. "Snake, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." He opened his eyes to sneer at the sky for a moment, rolling his eyes sarcastically. "Probably got oxygen sickness from the sudden descent."

Lara had no interest in correcting his understanding of the malady. "Mm, maybe. Are you sure you're alright?" She began to look him over, pat at his ribs or anywhere else he might have taken injury. There were no marks on his fatigues, no punctures she could discern in the clothing or laceration signs. "You seem okay. Maybe you're just a bit winded?"

"I said I'm fine." He forcefully removed her palms from him, and brushed past her.

"My, aren't we touchy?" Before he could tuff-guy his way beyond her reach, she pulled at him, spun him around. "Snake, I know you're a professional, and I understand that Otacon and I are the odd men out here. This isn't our element. But if something's the matter, you need to tell me now so I can make sure something doesn't go awry later on down the line?" She touched at his chin gently to make eye contact with him. His eyes were blue, like water running through crystal. She tried to look stern, concerned. "Do you understand?"

He nodded.

"Now, really, are you going to be alright? These aren't the friendliest territories."

He thought for a moment, then reluctantly admitted himself. "I, uh, feel a little lightheaded. It's nothing, really. It's been bugging me since we got out here." When she looked unconvinced, he growled a bit. "Look, if it were a cut or a something, I'd tell you, okay? You're almost as bad as he is."

"Oh, no, I imagine I'm worse. Well, if that's all it is, let's get back at it. There's quite a lot that needs doing." For the time being, she let it go. They moved the extra bit of yardage, and there were soon in Otacon's company again. She felt relieved when he climbed out of the tent, looking sweaty and tired but otherwise no worse.

"Snake!" Otacon looked to Lara. "Hey, I wasn't sure you two were coming back. How'd it go?"

"Well," she said. "he's not an easy man to track down, but I managed. Caught sight of someone less than welcoming, I'd say." She let Snake fill him in on the details. "Hal, did you make it alright?"

"Yeah, aside from a few odd noises, I wasn't too spooked." He shook a metal caraffe full of water. "Found this buried in the bushes after you left. With the stream, at least we won't die of dehydration. "

Snake was looking around the stream, what could have been a sort of road heading north-south with running water as its dividing line, cutting a swatch through the jungle and letting them see for a short distance in either direction, rounded stones acting as pavement in lieu of the moss-eaten soil they'd encountered on the trek back. "I heard a few animals while I was tracking the group that'd be firing on us. The wildlife must be used to people in this area, so there's a good chance if we need to, hunting shouldn't be much of a problem. "

"Hunting?" Otacon looked to Snake, then Lara. He was far from panic, but overt concern was always on the edge of his voice. "How long could we be out here?"

"Hal, Snake is being a bit of an alarmist." She tried to stare Snake into more a more comforting mood. He seemed oblivious, more interested in examining their surroundings. "We probably won't be out here more than a week, tops." As little as she liked lying to him, and as dangerous their situation could be, she did actually believe it as true. Civilisation would be quite a trek, but Bolivia was far from a no-man's-land.

Maybe she had underestimated Snake's diplomacy, because he turned to face Otacon. "She's right. Besides, even if we are out here a while, Lara's got the chops to make sure we don't eat some poison berries or something. Right?"

Lara laughed. "Flattery's only charming if it's sincere, but yes, I can make sure we're not on death's door." Crouching, she felt the ridged leaves of a shrub, feeling the lightly soapy texture of its chlorophyll excreted onto the endless digits of a larger plant. They were almost furry, rubbed between her two fingers, and she could scent its remnants left on her index and thumb. "Bolivia's got more than enough flora to keep us afloat, and with a little foresight, most of it shouldn't be harmful. Just don't go wiping random plants on yourself as substitutes for soap, mm?"

Her comment reminded Otacon of a more pressing concern than hygiene, and he reminded them of their situation regarding supplies. Most of anything useful had been jettisoned, and although Lara had not initially understood why, Snake informed her that if the plane went did (which, it was hardly prescient of them, seemed likely at that point) then at least there could be scavenged some refuse from its crash, lest it ignite with, or because of, the plane's crash. It was hardly a roundtable discussion; an expedition resolved to find their goods, without need for dissent. Nightfall would make such a trip, no matter how short, impossible, and they would have to hope that if their pilots had made it, they could survive another eight hours. Lara advised although they were hardly easy prey, with the wildlife undoubtedly used to indigineous peoples, that the Amazon was not a place for traipsing about without proper armament.

"Is this technically the Amazon?" Otacon asked.

"Technically nothing, Hal, we're in its heart. How far, I couldn't say, but the Amazon is huge, and South America has biodiversity enough to make it more dangerous than most of the northern world. It's better we're here. For now."

Snake had been examining their surroundings with skepticism, periodically looking about in the pebbles, as if scouring for something. She heard a sound of his interest low in his throat, a rumbling. It reminded her of a puma, or jaguar maybe, and when one lip lifted slightly to bare teeth, it did nothing to dissuade her of the image.

Lara watched him moving about, then watched him wander off nonchalantly into the brush.

She felt the skin on her arms prickle, like a draft had come in.

"I'm going to go collect firewood. I'll be in earshot if you two need me." And just like that, only his fading crunching of the underbrush, Snake had wandered off again.

"Huh? What's into him? Jeez, that guy's got—"

"I'm going to do the same, Hal." She turned to the forest.

She peered deep into the lines of trees, of limbs with their dewy leaflets. Insects hummed in the background, chirruping, buzzing. The sun was a hazy mist that had retired over the mountains, and light came into their encampment by proxy of the mist that could be felt but not seen.

Lara stared out into the emerald, and waited.

"Lara? Are you okay?" Otacon had stood, nudged her in the elbow.

Nothing stirred. Just everything.

She looked at him over her shoulder. "Yeah, Hal. It's okay." She turned back to the forest. The birds were winding down for the day. She did not hear Snake, just the jungle. "I'll be back in a little while, we should probably just get that fire going."