“Is it done yet?” Pen glares at the bauble suspiciously. She has a sneaking suspicion that this was all a ruse. He’s just trying to steal her food.

“It’ll need a minute longer,” says the man, as they walk through the forest.

Nervously, she leans forward in the seat, staring down at the sealed off compartment below, in which the crystal resides inside of. Pen bites the inside of her cheek. The man had told her to seal the bag tightly together and to put it down there so it could get hot. It seemed like a promising offer at first but…

The girl narrows her eyes, her fingers running over the surface of the metal plate covering the tube. He has had them both for several minutes now and with every passing minute, she’s slowly starting to become more and more certain that he's just planning on keeping them for himself. Why did he even want her food? He couldn’t even eat it. But the fact of the matter is that he had them and she didn’t. Maybe because the box was orange?

The man breaks the silence. “The mountain water was probably fine. Probably. But this lake stuff we really should cook off, you might get sick otherwise.”

“Sick?” asks Pen, lost.

“From the water,” explains Tango.

“Huh?” She leans back, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “You wash yourself with water. How can it make you sick if it's clean?”

“Because of microorganisms. Bacteria, parasites, fu-“ The bauble zooms in on her confused face and the man stops. “Look, just don’t drink still water without cooking it off first, okay? There are little bad things in the water sometimes.”

Pen rolls her eyes. “If there’s anything in the water then I’ll just pull it out.”

Tango argues back. “No, you can’t. They’re too small for that. You can’t even see them with your eyes. That’s why they’re called microor-“

A finger presses itself against the bauble.

“Stop making up weird things! If you can’t see them with your eyes, then how do you know that they’re there?!” She falls back down to the seat, crossing her arms again. “Liar,” pouts the girl.

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The man relents with a sigh, knowing that he can’t win.

“Here, it should be fine now,” says Tango. The hatch covering the crystal slides back out of the way, releasing a surge of heat up into the cabin. The familiar hum grows louder. With wide eyes, Pen leans forward to look. “Careful, it’s probably hot.”

Indifferent, Pen bends forward and pulls out the little sachet and the box, making a little hissing noise as the hot sachet burns her finger a little, but she doesn’t let go, setting the box down to her side and placing the sachet onto the jacket on her lap. It really is hot. The man had been telling the truth.

She looks at him warily. Though maybe only because she had called him out. She’d have to keep an eye on him, to make sure he doesn’t try anything. Her fingers open the top of the resealable bag and a puff of steam comes out to waft against her face. The mixture inside is soupy and thinner than last time, since she put more water into it, in her haste. Lifting it up, she smells it, taking a tiny sip before wincing and pulling back. It really is hot. Still. She leans back satisfied with her bounty. The girl looks up to Tango’s eye.

“When are we going to get there?”

“Get where?” asks the man, continuing to walk.

“The city.”

“I couldn’t tell you, I have no idea where it is.”

“But you said you were there before,” argues the girl.

“I said I was in a city. There were lots of them.”

A long, protracted groan escapes the girl again and she attempts to take another sip from the sachet. The man clearly isn’t going to be entirely honest with her. Maybe he just couldn’t, she wonders, staring at the cabin around herself. Maybe something is just broken in his brain? Maybe that’s why he was talking gibberish all the time. She had seen this before, when someone got hit too often in the head. It made them act funny.

The girl takes another sip from the sachet, now slightly longer. It’s still hot, but she pushes through. The texture of the brownish liquid is a very grainy, thick water. The flavor is simple as well, but that’s perhaps the most satisfying thing about it, thinks the girl as she drinks more of it.

“How can I fix you?” she asks him, quickly taking another sip as she feels his eye watching her. Watching her food.

“Huh?” asks the man, somewhat surprised at the question. “Well… maybe the best thing to do would be to start small. Clean out the mess, you know?”

Mess?

Pen looks around at the cabin, trying to figure out what he means. Sure, there are some scuffs. Some dried blood on the ceiling and walls around her. There are some stains on the sides of the armrest from when she threw-up a little. Sure, there was also a little mud and dried snow-grime on some of the metal near the console, especially near the spot she kicked a lot. Maybe, the bauble was a little smeared from all of the times she touched it too.

But all in all, everything looks fine, thinks the girl and sighs, taking another sip of her food. Letting out a slight noise of subsequent delight at the feeling of the warmth it was giving her. Realizing that the man was still watching her though, she straightens up and clears her throat, pretending that the noise was just from her coughing.

“I guess I can do that.”

“Thanks, I’ll hold you to that if we ever find some place to stop. I guess it must be winter? Everything seems colder than I remember it being.”

“Winter?” asks the girl, taking another long sip from her pouch, before setting it down and warily gazing at the orange box next to herself.

“Yeah, you know? The seasons? Spring, summer, fall, winter? Winter is when it gets really cold and snow starts falling down.”

Pen groans, setting down the sachet and grabbing the orange box. With her other hand, she rubs the bridge of her nose, annoyed. Why was the man like this? He’s like a child, thinks the girl.

She takes a careful sip of the warm orange liquid. Her eyes go wide. It’s sweet. The taste is bright and not sour like the last one, this one is more… fresh. She quickly takes another large gulp and leans back, unable to hide the smile on her face now even if she wants to. Still, she manages to shake her head at the newest gibberish the man had spouted.

Winter was when the snow fell? Her smile grows as she can't help but laugh a little.

The snow is always falling.