To the Jane comment, I can only arch an eyebrow; I think we both know who's better-equipped for a survivalist situation, swinging from vines or not.
"I just want something we can tie to a sturdy branch, just in case the floor gives way," I say as we pick our way into the next building down, no less dusty than the first. It's filled with pollen, and I take a sharp look around to be certain there aren't any puffballs in residence before I let either of us inside.
"You have to wonder about the point of this exercise," I say as I open the lid on a moldy wooden box, the hinges squealing and popping with rust. A bird in a nearby tree answers with a shrill squawk. "Or maybe there's not a point, maybe we're just being screwed with."
Over time, the things done to us all, the tasks set before us, have stopped feeling arbitrary, particularly since we all came out of the fountain the second time. But anything's possible.
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"I just want something we can tie to a sturdy branch, just in case the floor gives way," I say as we pick our way into the next building down, no less dusty than the first. It's filled with pollen, and I take a sharp look around to be certain there aren't any puffballs in residence before I let either of us inside.
"You have to wonder about the point of this exercise," I say as I open the lid on a moldy wooden box, the hinges squealing and popping with rust. A bird in a nearby tree answers with a shrill squawk. "Or maybe there's not a point, maybe we're just being screwed with."
Over time, the things done to us all, the tasks set before us, have stopped feeling arbitrary, particularly since we all came out of the fountain the second time. But anything's possible.