#barton being half-looped and almost stealing from windowmaker in the process is crazyyy

[mad-hunts]

“ nothing clever to say? ”  

barton had absolutely no idea how he had gotten here. just that one moment, he was cruising down a hill country road in a stolen car and the next moment, he was here — blood dripping from his temple like a faucet, dirt and scratches all over his face, in addition to being in the middle of seemingly nowhere. what a great way to spend his weekend. he must've hit his head or something, barton reasoned, because there couldn't be possibly any other explanation as to why he couldn't remember a thing. his legs felt like jelly whenever he managed to finally get up from his position... in a ditch, within some woods? he barely had the strength to muster up a groan as he walked north in this ever-elusive place he was in. alright, he thought, there must be some kind of landmarks here that will tell him where he is.

barton paid close attention to absolutely everything as he made his way through the woods. or, at least, as much attention as a person with a severely throbbing head and nearly unbearable light sensitivity could. after limping through the words and yes, barton believed limping would be the most appropriate term for it, he was starting to feel inclined to give up. like maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be so bad if he stopped here and succumbed to the sleep that was trying desperately to claim him. he hadn't seen any landmarks that he could recognize and as if he was in some cheesy horror movie, the trees looked to go on for forever. but oh. wait, wait, wait. barton could see a clearing in the distance, with a stream, and two distinct paths running alongside of it.

thank the god's or whatever higher beings there may be out there. gripping for purchase against a tree, barton finally reached the clearing and that is where he found it. a backpack. now, this would've certainly raised some alarm bells to a much more conscious version of himself, but all he could focus on right now was how hungry he was. his priorities were all over the place, it seemed. though granted, barton felt as if he were a moving thing instead of a person right now, that was starving and bleeding and tired all at once. and he could only take care of those one at a time. a thought had popped up in the back of his mind that said, hey, perhaps you shouldn't do this, but barton quickly silenced it. if there was food inside of that backpack, he had to take it. his delirium led him to believe that the person who owned the backpack probably wouldn't miss one piece of food anyway.

that was when he heard an unfamiliar voice as he turned to look behind him and looked to be caught red-handed by the person who owned it. ohh, le christ sur un bâton*, why did he always have the worst luck — barton immediately dropped the apple he'd swiped from her bag and almost tripped over it while proceeding backwards. he probably looked bad, that much he knew. barton could use that to his advantage to get out of here. a choked laugh bubbled to the surface, followed by an unnatural movement of his leg while he took one more step backwards, as his legs still felt like they weren't attached to his very body. barton had enough sense to put his hands up in surrender then.

❝ ahh. that belongs to you, hmm? you must think i must be a fool for trying to steal from you in broad daylight. but if i'm being honest, you had left it unattended and if i hadn't seen it first, it's very possible something much less savory would've gotten to it. like a coyote or a bear. sorry, who are you? ❞ barton knew that he was absolutely failing at trying to defend himself against the other, so he stopped before he could dig himself further into a hole. a breath stopped in his throat whenever he felt something wet trickle down the side of neck as well. he reached up to touch it, and discovered that the cut he had on his temple extended much further than he thought. it was also on the side of his head. crap, crap, crap.

❝ actually — nevermind, you don't have to answer that. where is this? i mean, where are we? you seem to know your way around. if you can tell me where the nearest exit is out of this maze, i'll never bother you again. or i'll get you all the apples you want to make up for it. whatever, i don't care. i just need to... go. ❞

( * christ on a stick. )