[Vinati Ryder]

Ryder strode confidently in front of Francis, bright orange eyes sparkling with determination. That is, until Fran's thick hand grasped her tough shoulder and pulled her back behind him. She huffed with disapproval, making her way toward the front again. His lengthy arm stretched out before her, interfering with her progress. "Don't be so eager, Ryder, your vibes are going to kill all the wildlife," he teased with a grunt, eyes gleaming and full of amusement. Ryder finally huffed and fell back behind him.

Parker, in contrast, was in the very back of the group, staring at all the different shades of hair in front of him. He glanced toward Ryder, who was relatively easy to spot, and then toward the countless weapons clinging to the men's belts. He looked at his meek little knife, wondering how he was supposed to kill something with it. Why did things have to be so difficult? Wolves just clung to the prey's neck and cut off its flow of fresh air into its lungs. Oh, but Parker and the rest of them had to stab something or, as Ryder put it, slice its neck and make sure it didn't attack you back. She was always so reassuring. He stared at the backs of the twelve men and the single woman.

There was fourteen of them in all if you counted the clumsy older brother.

"Uh, excuse me?" he peeped, taking on the appearance of a mouse about to be attacked by the feline when a brawny man spun around to face him, dirty brown hair sweeping over his eyes.

"What?" he spat, watching Parker with a deadly glare.

"When are we eating? We've been walking for thirty minutes now."

The man's left eye twitched when he heard this. "Ryder, your brother's being stupid," he announced, leaving it at that and turning back around.

Ryder glanced over her shoulder, frowning with distaste. "Please, Parker," she groaned, running a hand through her hair, "just shut up for a little while longer and listen to John."

That sure fired Parker up. "I'm not going to just shut up, Rye!" Unable to think of a comeback, he sulked, brows furrowed considerably. Both Ryder and Fran exchanged a baffled yet amused glance.

Francis decided to be kind this time. He stopped abruptly, forcing Ryder to ram into him from behind and stumble backward, bouncing off a few of the men like a ping-pong ball. A rather muscular one finally caught her, hoisting her onto her feet. His pimples were the size of the Iwani Volcano in Ejin. Each one of them. Ryder nodded toward him, glancing at Fran like he was insane.

"We'll eat here," he announced, catching Ryder's look, "and no, I'm not kidding." He pulled out a large tortoise shell from his pack, gathered up a bit of brush, and set fire to it with a scrawny match. He propped the tortoise shell on top of it, blowing on the fire gently to get it going. He popped the cap off of a canister of liquid, pouring it into its shell and folding his hands in his lap.

The group had practically blinked once by the time he was done.

Ryder, reluctantly, seated herself on a granite rock, her arms crossed across her chest. "Fine," she grunted, scooting over a little to let John sit on the rock as well. The two leaned up against each other like they were brother and sister, not she and Parker. Parker, in fact, sat at the base, next to John's mud-encrusted boots.

"You guys are going to have to pass the turtle shells around. I've only got so many," Fran told them, stirring the substance in the large tortoise shell.

"What's he making?" Parker inquired, almost afraid of the answer.

"Soup," Ryder responded bluntly.

"Fine then."

After ten minutes or so, the thin soup was prepared. Fran scooped it into seven different, tiny shells. He gave one to each pair of people. He and Henry, John and Ryder, Parker and Richard, Char and Nathan, Alex and Chris, RJ and Aaron, and finally Ace and Adam. They'd all take turns passing the shell between each other, taking a sip, and passing it back.

It was Parker's turn to take a sip from he and Richard's bowl. He did so, listening to the conversation.

"Yeah, so we'll just gut the boar right in the field?"

"I dunno, man, I don't--"

"Sure, I mean if we do it quick."

"Who's gonna eat the brain of the boar this time? I think Parker should," Adam suggested. Of course, it was just a joke, but Parker took it seriously.

It happened so quickly. All of a sudden, Parker's mouthful of soup was all over John.

"WE ARE NOT TAKING THIS DAMN BOY WITH US NEXT TIME!" he roared, but everyone was laughing.

God, Parker was such a burden.