Rayne Drops: Bickery for Two

Hot Spring Fiasco

            At the next campsite, Ignis makes a point of keeping me and Gladio separated. Gladio sets up the tent with Noct's help and I'm stuck lugging bags back and forth between the haven and the car. The walk is (unfortunately) quite long, and I wind up loading myself up as much as I can with each trip, what with me carrying sleeping bags and cooking sets and such.

I dig further into the trunk, slinging my own bag over one shoulder and Noct's over another. Reaching behind me and fumbling around is awkward, but I manage to clip the two clasps from each bag together, intertwining them and effectively connecting both bags and making my life much easier. I grit my teeth upon holding up Gladio's bag, grimacing at the ridiculously heavy backpack and tossing it to the ground behind me. My nose crinkles; I can still smell that jam.

Ignis's charcoal gray duffle bag goes over my left shoulder, putting me just the slightest bit off balance. I check the trunk for anything else we might need before reaching up to close the trunk. I slight shuffle behind me causes my muscles to instantly stiffen. Carefully, I glance down at Gladio's bag, my heart catching in my throat. Do I... kill it?

The saberclaw snuffles its sharp nose into the pocket of the black bag, pawing at the pack meekly. It's smaller than any I've ever seen, thinner, if that's even possible. The horns that would adorn the usual saberclaw's skin are cracked and split stumps with some just missing altogether. Using one long, curled talon, it unhooks the zipper and digs deeper. Then, I get it. Gladio and his gosh-dang Cup Noodles. I sigh, reaching to nudge the bag with the tip of my boot; the saberclaw hisses, swatting at my ankle with a low growl. With its other front foot, it skewers the styrofoam of the dried noodles and pulls it from the bag.

"C'mon, dude," I mutter, the creature glowering at me with a pair of golden eyes. "He's gonna think that was me."

When I make another move toward the bag, the saberclaw yelps, picking up Gladio's noodles with its massive fangs and leaping past me into the trunk of the Regalia. Before I can react, its tail catches the back end of the lid and the trunk closes firmly. I stare at the back of the car for a bit longer before sighing, shaking my head, and lugging Gladio's bag with me back to camp. I'll take care of it tomorrow.

"Is that everything?" Ignis asks, rolling up his sleeves and taking his bag from me.

"Pretty sure," I huff, shrugging off the rest of the luggage and falling hard onto my back. The clouds above my head catch the golden light of the setting sun, drifting gently across the fading sky. Pretty cool.

"My face still hurts," Prompto mumbles, touching the deep bruise across his face gingerly. "Why can't I use a potion, Iggy?"

"We're running low on curatives," Ignis replies, resting his chin between his forefinger and his thumb as he scans over his remaining ingredients. "I believe using a potion on a bruise might be a bit of a waste."

"Can't you just brew one with your fancy magic cooking powers," the blonde groans, flopping onto the ground beside me miserably. "It hurts."

"Grow up," Gladio grumbles, heading out of the tent and grabbing the last of the sleeping bags before disappearing yet again.

"Specs is plenty of things," Noctis yawns, stretching his arms over his head. "But a witch isn't one."

"That's up for debate," I reply, sitting up. "Hey Iggy, you said there were some hot springs nearby?"

"There are," Ignis nods, motioning out toward the west side of the woods we're camped in. "Past those trees. A good thing, considering how his Highness likes to peep like a school boy."