Surprisingly, the temperature does begin to drop the longer the night sets in. It subconsciously curls its cold little fingers against exposed skin, encouraging her to pull her jacket tighter. She zips it up, clumsy fingers pulling at the draw. She exhales, breath frosty, glancing up to side-eye her partner.

"Aww.. he cares about me."

She unzips the front of her jacket again, fishing for a cigarette. After a couple of attempts to come up with a flame, the end is lit and she draws in the warmth right to her core. This time, her exhale is full of smoke.

"Y'know if we stop, that guy we're looking for might not."

Her own feet scuff through the leaf pile, kicking it up in frustration. For all of their hard work outside in the elements, they hadn't found anything of use.

Julien Demassieux

☉

"You mean you'll be tired and tripping over rocks. Mr. Big Foot."

She is quiet only for a moment for another drag. Eventually, however, she passes it to him if he'd take it.

"With the speed this guy's been running, I find it hard to believe he's human."

With the full moon overhead, their skin is washed out and pale. It is dark, yes, but not nearly as impossibly black as it should have been. It helped the sun was still sinking, so they were seeing based on the sliver of daylight that yet remained.

"All I'm saying is you're impossible to miss, even in the dark."

But she rolls her eyes and turns around. She is sort of a bystander or outside man to his operation. Whatever he says goes, and she doesn't care all that much.

"I'm hungry, anyway."

Julien Demassieux

☉

"You, stupid. Do you see anyone else out here with big ass feet?"

She even wiggles her own foot at him and, although her boots are huge, her feet within are smaller, surely, than his.

And, for a moment, Remi is in shock and horror when he walks away. Fortunately, he stops nearby to bend down and collect wood- that, she doesn't mind. It is both a good show and helpful. Best of both worlds.

"Wait-- I can cook? Is it because I'm a woman?"

And then he continues on to suggest the food will taste like shit. Yes, she's aware he hadn't specifically said she would make it taste like shit, she just intentionally jumped to that conclusion to pick a fight. Yes, she was a complete asshole.

"How the fuck did I get stuck with you, again?"

She scoffs, walking away to look agitated elsewhere. But the cold is starting to wear at her patience, and she rubs at her upper arms roughly to attempt to keep warm. Once the fire starts, she inches a bit closer to it.

Julien Demassieux

☉

"Why not? If we're going to take a break for the night, then you should eat, too. I don't need you passing out halfway through from starvation."

He sounds tired, understandably, given how tirelessly they had moved all afternoon. From morning until night, and they had hardly stopped for anything. This, in fact, would be the first time they'd stopped all day and it was to sleep.

Remi, still frustrated, but evidently less so when faced with a genuine apology and an exasperated Julien, shuffles off to collect the food they'd been sent along with. It seems to be a sort of soup, one that she starts boiling over the fire.

"Just.. get over here for god's sake."

Julien Demassieux

☉

She tucks her chin and glances at him.

"You're going to be picky, now? No wonder you're single."

But she sloshes around the contents and points out chunky pieces of potato and chunks of unidentifiable meat. She shrugs, glances back at him, and rolls her eyes.

"I'll give you the meatier parts, then, if you're so hungry."

And, from her pack, she pulls out pieces of bread as well. It seems really wild-man of them, like they'd gathered ingredients from roughing it in the woods. Frankly, Rocket could have done a lot better in providing a healthy meal.

"Just don't get all worked up, and you won't be hungry."

She raises an eyebrow.

Julien Demassieux

☉

She passes the bowl off quickly, both because of how awkward and mundane it is to feed someone else, and the fact the bowl is piping hot and scalding her fingers.

"Of course you do. Most men do."

And in response to his defensive comment about his relationship status, she rolls her eyes and snorts.

"Right. That's what they all say."

She slowly pours her own bowl second, sucking air through her teeth as she splashes it over the edge to burn herself, and readjusts the bowl over and over to avoid hurting herself more. But eventually, she settles into a seated position in front of the fire, tucking her jacket up and around her reddening ears.

"Are you trying to hit on me or something?"

What kind of pick-up line was 'do you need help setting up a tent?'

Julien Demassieux

☉

He was very similar to an awkward virgin teen. He amuses her and irritates her in the same breath, and she finds it impossibly easy to make fun of him and yet seek some semblance of approval. Why? She had no idea.

Call it the reconstruction part of her path of grieving.

Or call it being an asshole.

"You're always weird."

She waves him off so she can eat in peace, using the motion to mask the shivering beneath her thin jacket. Hoenn weather was a doozy. Overall, the soup isn't all that bad. It is by no means the same quality as the one he'd made and shared with her on the submarine- but in some ways it was better because it didn't have the secret ingredient of seasickness.

With a lick of her lips and a final scrape of her own bowl, she sets hers next to his and waits a moment longer before pulling herself to her feet and approaching her pack with the tent.

Julien Demassieux

☉