Accommodations

[Hikaru]

February 3rd, Year 1

It'd been a few weeks since the skirmish in Australia. Things in the Freedom Fighter camp had settled down back into it's routine but that didn't mean the army was any less busy. There was always something to do, and Hikaru kept busy. When she had been lifted from her probationary period Hikaru had taken nearly any assignment she could. Guard duty. Construction. Resource acquisitions. Training. Laundry. You name it, and Hikaru was on it. At one point Hikaru had been pranked to start digging a latrine pit. Even when it was cleared up that she hadn't been ordered to do the deed, she finished it anyway. She figured she might as well since she had started the task. There was a lot less sneering at her after that.

In this way Hikaru had become a familiar face about the camp. A lot of the distrust had faded, at least on the surface. There was, most likely, still a lot of misgivings under the surface, but one can only hold suspicions for so long when some one I willing to dig a toilet for you.

With a grunt Hikaru pulled tightly on the rope she had curled around her forearm for better purchase. The latest tent went from sagging sadly to standing properly straight. She stepped back and then tied the rope tightly to one of the stakes stamped deep into the dirt. Hikaru tugged firmly on the rope to make sure there wasn't any give or risk of the knot coming undone. She nodded, pleased, and then stood up, boots crunching against the dirt. The new tent was the latest in another set of housing for the various soldiers of the army. As the Freedom Fighters expanded and gathered more recruits they needed to grow as well. While Zamora had expressed an intent to build more stable and suitable housing, but it would take time, and so they would need these temporary accommodations.

"Good job, everyone," Hikaru nodded in gratitude to the others that had volunteered to assist in pitching the latest collection of tents, "These should be enough for now."

Hikaru wiped away some of the sweat that had formed from the hard work in the sun. She was wearing a simple undershirt that exposed her pale skin to the elements. Luckily the medics had plenty of salve that could be used as a sunblock to protect her skin. Even if she had gotten terribly sunburnt, Hikaru would simply power through it. But it was better to just avoid it. She moved off to the side and sat down in the shade of one of the newly pitched tents. Hikaru fetched a jar of the said salve from one of her many pockets and began to work it in her bare arms, working towards her neck and back.

Every inch of her skin was scarred with all manner of wounds. There were slash marks, bullet wounds, burns, and god knows what else. A life time of violence was painted over her. Hikaru usually wore longer clothes that covered her body. While it was known she was scarred from the marks on her face and hands, it hadn't given a clue to the levels of damage that she had covered. She didn't care, though. Wasn't embarrassed or ashamed. The scars and damage were a part of her. A part of her history. She merely covered herself for protection. Now that she had this makeshift sunblock, she was seen more regularly wither arms and legs bare.

[Copper]

The hound’s body made a slight thud as he flopped to the ground next to where Hikaru had placed herself in the shade. Ever since Lucky’s death some three weeks prior, Copper had thrown himself into every task that he could get around the camp. If only to get his mind off of the incident for a short while. There was no denying that the young canine blamed himself for the pup’s death, but just how far that guilt went was anyone’s guess.

Copper’s mouth fell open as a long series of pants left him in short succession. He’d almost overexerted himself, but he wasn’t about to admit to that fact. The hot, dry heat of the pre-wet season sun baked the ground turning it into a virtual stove-top. Copper didn’t doubt that if someone had wanted to that they could probably cook an egg on one of the nearby rocks. The fact of it being so hot just made Copper’s exhaustion even worse.

Dogs didn’t process heat the same way humans did, and he still wasn’t used to the scorching African sun. While he could sweat slightly through his nose and paw pads, it still wasn’t enough to cool him off after such a strenuous task. At least it was for him anyway.

Copper continued to let out quick, sharp breaths as he attempted to relieve himself of some of the heat. Being in the shade helped considerably, but for the moment it would take a bit before he would be able to do anything else.

Dark brown eyes slowly wandered over to where Hikaru sat, and Copper couldn’t help but stare at all of the scars that littered the woman’s form. While he’d noticed them before he hadn’t gotten a chance to really look at them. Now he did, and he was amazed at the sheer number of them.

Pulling himself to his paws, Copper slowly walked over to Hikaru and sat next to her. His breath was still coming in quick, short pants but it was a little bit more steady now.

“How did you get all of those?” the hound asked, nodding slightly toward her with his nose, indicating that he was asking about her scars.

[Boso]

Boso's pricked ears leaned forward to the breeze. An egret, his long, spindly legs held stiffly out behind him, took off from Lake Kiziwa. 

It was February now, the last month of winter, but Boso would not have guessed. In the forest he had been born in, winter was a time when the days were short and hunger pangs could never be eased because there was never enough food to go around. He would have to scrape very hard for it, and the thick snow made it just as difficult to move from place to place. To run through snow, Boso would have to jump very high, and that wore him out quickly. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he got used to the warm climate and the abundance of food. He did feel guilty for leaving his mother and sister behind, and many times, he had thought about going back to get them. But that would be a fool's errand. Rolla would not only refuse to go out of fear for their safety, but she would not let him run away a second time. As much as he wanted to help his mother and sister, he did not want to go home just yet. 

"A-hem!" Boso looked down. A hedgehog glowered back at him with surly, beady eyes and raised his prickles in a fury. Boso got the message and moved out of the way. He would have liked to say something clever, but he remembered the last time he annoyed a hedgehog. His nose had stung for a whole week. 

Head held high as if the snub the lowly beast, Boso cantered off in a huff, joining Hikaru and Copper. The roe deer's red coat was beginning to lose its youthful dapple, and he had nearly doubled in size from all the food. But it would be a while before Jasper could make him a peacekeeper. He was still a child.

"How did you get all of those?"

"I was wondering the same thing," Boso admitted, pawing the ground. He found the sheer number of scars on Hikaru both fascinating and horrifying. It looked as though a bear had raked its claws through her.

[Hikaru]

Hikaru flicked her eyes to Copper when he spoke up and she paused rubbing the salve into her skin. She stared at him silently for a moment, impossible to read. Was she bothered by the question? Did she want to be left alone? Was she considering her answer?

Hikaru set aside the salve and then pulled a canteen from one of the pockets in her cargo shorts. She cocked her head considering Copper's lack of lips... She dug a small hole in the dirt and then laid a cloth inside to keep dirt from mixing into the make shift bowl she made for Copper. The cloth was thick enough that the water wouldn't bleed through too quickly. Hikaru poured the water and then closed the canteen.

Turns out Hikaru's moment of silence was just her trying to think of how to get some water for the dehydrated comrade.

"Drink something," Hikaru set aside the canteen and then glanced to Boso as he followed up Copper's question.

"Living," it was a simple enough answer. It didn't seem like Hikaru was trying to be evasive. For her that was the answer, she didn't feel it needed elaborating. To her things were what they were. She didn't prod into details, and so she sometimes forget that people sometimes wanted more than monosyllabic answers to questions. Hikaru would  continue if prompted.

[Copper]

When Hikaru had paused to stare at him, at first Copper had been afraid he’d said something wrong. His ears had tilted back slightly, and his gaze had moved to the side, a show of his slight unease. Then Boso spoke up as well, and Copper felt a little better for having asked; he wasn’t the only one who was curious. When the woman didn’t respond, however, and instead pulled out a canteen from one of her many pockets, Copper couldn’t help but twist his head in that confused way that dogs did. What was she doing? It became clear rather quickly when she dug a small hole and placed a piece of cloth in it before pouring some of the water from the canteen inside.

“Drink something.”

Copper blinked, glanced at the makeshift bowl, swiped his tongue over his dry lips, and then lowered his head to take a few generous laps. Droplets dripped from his muzzle as he lifted his head once more and nodded to Hikaru. “Thanks,” he muttered, swiping away the few drops that remained.

His ears perked when Hikaru finally answered his and Boso’s question, but it wasn’t exactly the answer the hound had expected. Dark brown lowered to the ground as Copper considered the meaning of Hikaru’s response. It was simple and carried such a heavy meaning that Copper felt it odd to try and pry for further details. That one simple word had said more than any amount of gory details ever could. And for that, Copper found himself respecting the woman that much more.

[Flynn Rider]

Flynn Rider had collapsed on the ground nearby Copper and Hikaru earlier, trying to decide to chime in or sleep. Pitching tents in this God-forsaken African heat was nothing to laugh at, especially when the tents were as numerous as the sands of the ocean. Good grief...One day, they're gonna run out of room to pitch tents. Wonder what another good place would be for these guys...

Definitely not Corona. Not a chance at all. He couldn't risk an attack on his homeland, no way. He heard some other places around the world were open and willing to support this band of fighters, but Eugene wasn't sure Corona was the right choice. Although if Blondie recommended it, he'd be a good show and support her all the way.

This Hikaru chick, though...She was an interesting one. Word had gotten to him from others in the camp, she was one a rotten Blackblood Legionnaire. Defected from their treatment of her, and ended up here. Some claimed she was reformed; others warned she'd kill them all in her sleep. Somehow, Eugene didn't mistrust her.

How could he?

Wasn't she just a runaway orphan without a home like he was? Living in a world who won't forget your past?

The bearded rogue slid up, almost groggily yawning, "Hey, it'll make for great stories once all of this fighting ends, right doggo?" Sitting up now, and resting his back on the tree they were relaxing under, Flynn glanced over to Hikaru and grinned slightly, still floating between sleep and reality. "Well, if whoever or whatever left those scars are still out there, let me know. I have friends around, we can have them turned in for their crimes." He mused, "Ha, never thought I'd be the one to advocate for getting the guards involved."

[Hikaru]

Hikaru took another swig of water from her canteen and then offered to to Flynn who looked like he also could use the drink. Pitching tents in this heat was thirsty work. At least she didn't need to make him a make shift bowl. She was going to have to find an item she could use for one that she could pack in with her gear for the future. Hikaru put a mental pin on that thought before returning to the present moment.

"Well, if whoever or whatever left those scars are still out there, let me know. I have friends around, we can have them turned in for their crimes." He mused, "Ha, never thought I'd be the one to advocate for getting the guards involved."

Hikaru's lip quirked slightly to the side. It was a small smile. Almost invisible, but it was there.

She looked down at her hand, the years of calluses, nicks, and cuts leaving the skin almost gnarled. Her hands weren't disfigured or damaged, just well worn. A life of hard training and battle. Her eyes traveled up from her hands to her forearms and the scars that just continued to climb.

Hikaru then turned to Flynn and held those arms out to him, brandishing them as if she was offering herself to be shackled.

"A majority of these were from training. My father is deceased, so I suppose I can only turn myself in," Hikaru's wry smile emphasizing the joke.