You couldn't sleep for the awful fright that kept you up in bed last

[nofury]

WHO: Araceli Bonaventura, Clint Barton, Maria Hill
WHAT: Camping in the Mire
WHEN: The duration of staying in the Fallow Mire
WHERE: ...a tent. In the Mire.
NOTES: Feel free to hop around

Everything in the Fallow Mire was soggy, and the tent and the people sleeping within it were no exception. The undead just added to the overall moist ambiance. But there was still the normal matters of sleeping, eating, sitting by the fire and keeping watch to take care of on top of the rest of it. With so many tasks to be taken care of, not all tent members may try to be sleeping at the same time. But, for better or worse, there was no avoiding company in such close quarters.

Comments

[foxsays]

It had been too long since she’d last felt this sort of cold that ate into her bones. Skyhold was cold, the march there possibly worse but the damp lingered here, like another person clinging to her every time she moved and that was without falling in. It didn’t mean her boots were any drier but she’d done her very best to get the worst of the muck off them before she’d crawled into the tent, skimming them and her socks off before tucking her feet under Lux. Welcome to any as a small furry furnace if they didn’t mind that he smelled of the same damp as everything else.

It could be worse. She wasn’t quite sure how exactly, but it could be and that was enough to have a drink to as she shimmied her flask from her hip to take a sip, enough to get the taste of damp out of her mouth but unfortunately not enough to make her forget about the corpses.

“If you don’t mind sharing,” she offered, recapping it and holding it out, “I brought some rum from Skyhold. You’ll feel warm for at least five minutes.”

[snarksman]

It could always be worse. Why did he volunteer for this, anyway?

The Mire was wet. It was wet and dark and dank and smelled bad. Much like the rest of Ferelden, but he digressed. He feels bad for his tentmates, being stuck with him wasn't the best thing. He's left Lucky, his Mabari, outside of the tent; there were hardly enough room inside for the humanoid occupants, let alone his massive hound. They've slept in worse conditions.

"Thanks," he responds to her, reaching out to take the small flask. He's quick to take a swig and hand it back to her. "I've got some too. It's not the best, but it'll do the job."

[nofury]

Maria frowns slightly as the flask goes back and forth. There were undead about, after all. Sickness, death, and demons besides the cold. Which means she lets out a small sigh as she accepts the offered drink as well. Just for a sip.

"We'll be here for some weeks, I think. Better to ration your supplies."

[foxsays]

"Why do people live here? I mean this is awful, no one should choose to live in a giant bog, even without the corpses, how do you keep anything fresh?" Her complaint probably isn't one they can answer because if they were natives then they'd be amongst the legion of the dead they all keep having to fight but there's nowhere quite so miserable where she comes from.

Seriously, a few weeks are enough, she doesn't quite get how anyone could decide 'darling, let's live our lives with the stench of rot and damp pervading our marriage'.

[snarksman]

"Same reason people live anywhere, I guess," Clint starts, and he's quite sure it's the same reason why he sticks to Ferelden. "You get used to it. You settle down and then you get used to it. It becomes part of who you are; it seeps into your bones and eventually, it doesn't bother you anymore."

But that's just him. He shrugs, leaning back. "But maybe we should just ask someone."

[nofury]

"The land your father died on and your son was born on, there's that."

She turned to look out over the mire, clearly only grasping the concept on a logical and not emotional level. She'd left her home city and rarely looked back. Sticking in an untenable situation wasn't her idea of a good plan.

"And it's slightly less frozen than the frostbacks."

[foxsays]

“My people are sailors, we live on islands, all of them close but you still need to sail out to them, we have more waterways and bridges than ‘real’ streets. Most of our native captains don’t even sleep one night on dry land, the ones born on ships never do unless something forces them to.” It’s the concept that gets her, the idea of just living somewhere because generations before you did when she could get up any day and sail off without any real cares in the world. “So long as I was by the sea, that was always enough for me.”

And now she’s not. She’s pretty far as far can be from the sea and the water here definitely isn’t the same, and not just because the corpses come staggering out.

“Are the Frostbacks more or less frozen than Skyhold? Up there is the coldest place I’ve ever been to.”

[snarksman]

"Skyhold's in the Frostbacks. But it's pretty high up. I'm still surprised no one's found it before now. And if you think it's cold now? Wait until the dead of winter sets in."

Clint's grown up with winters in this area, and the cold isn't like anything he's felt before. It's a cold that seeps into your bones, paralyzes you until you warm yourself up. It's not fun. "Skyhold smells better, though. The Mire smells like a druffalo pen that hasn't been mucked out in weeks."

[nofury]

"Cheerful. We'll need another round soon with this talk."

That flask had gone away a little too quickly for this conversation. It was all true, of course. Bad smells and cold and the lot. But that it was true wouldn't change the fact they were living in it.

[foxsays]

“Do you wish to wake in the bog itself with a corpse nestled next to you?” Her tone was light and teasing enough but there was still a little hint of danger as she took a swig from her flask and held it out once more. “I don’t even know what a druffalo is but it can smell worse than the- bogfishers? I think? The big ugly things here - whatever they are, nothing can smell that bad.”

Growing up for her was always the heat of Castileos and winter storms that were only cold because the wind howled in off the sea so you stayed indoors as much as possible, tucked up with soup, mulled wine and the biggest blankets.

“So what is a cheerier topic then if not the creeping cold? What we got up to before your world decided to get a bit drunk and crazy?”

[snarksman]

"You've never seen a druffalo?" He passed on this round of alcohol, handing it straight to Maria. "Big, bulky animals. Horns out to here." And if it doesn't help, he's totally mimicking how big they actually are. "You can feed a small family through the winter with the meat on them. Pleasant animals, not that pleasant to smell though."

Drunk and crazy? Clint actually laughed at that, deep and hearty that filled his chest like it was the funniest thing he had heard. "Thedas has always been drunk and crazy. Wait until you see darkspawn."

[nofury]

"You have to admit this is a new brand of delusion. Or at least one that hasn't been tried in a while."

She took her sip, a slightly wry smile forming as Clint finished his laughing.

"Possibly because last time it ended in darkspawn."

[foxsays]

"I've been three places here: Haven, or what remained, Skyhold, and now here. I had never seen a horse in the flesh until Skyhold." Of course not seeing a horse before hadn't stopped her from bothering them but the variety of wild beasts of all shapes and sizes here was taking longer to get used to than the magic.

"I heard enough about Darkspawn on the way here, someone explained the whole Blight thing. But this..." Hang on, she needed a minute to try to wrap her head around it. "It's happened before?"

[snarksman]

"Point."

He's not going to mention the horse thing, because really? She hasn't seen a horse? What a poor girl. Horses were majestic - how could anyone not be around such majestic creatures?

As he was - "Four times before. Blights are rather a big deal in Thedas."