#mason x teddy 002.

[ofwrxth]

+ TEDDY / THUNDER RIVER

Wolfsbane slows his healing, but Mason doesn't have time before he's pulled onto shifts, head still swimming as his hands somehow manage to do what he's told. It's a large camp, but he sticks close to those he knows and tries to keep his head up. He thinks of his dad, willing him to know he's alive. He's okay. He'll be okay. They all will. They have to be. He thinks of his uncles, probably worried. And then he thinks of Charlie. Probably sick to her stomach over Teddy and like that, his gaze goes to the small wolf, making sure he's always near her on their arbitrary shifts. Mason watces her shiver and rub her hands together as she grabs a shovel. Shit duty. He prefers it to the fights. He prefers it to the building. "Here," he says, leaving his pile and peeling off the ratty gloves he'd won in a fight the day before. The ache of it was slowly rolling away even if it should've been an hour or two, rather than a day before he felt better. "They're kinda small on me anyway," Mason adds with a wry smile, taking her hands and slipping them on her before she can protest. "Might help a bit," as gripping a freezing shovel is joint numbing work after an hour. @rviner

[ofwrxth]

"Nah, you'd catch them off guard," Mason says with conviction. "Like a ninja," he cracks, hoping to make Teddy smile. He hates being in this fucking camp, but he hates that she's there too. He knows that his uncle and cousin can take care of themselves if it came down to it, but he worries about the other wolf. Shrugging off her concern, he rubs the back of his neck, shoulder blades pulling in protest. "Not like I can say no, Ted." He's either dragged into a fight by guards wanting to prove themselves or wanting entertainment, or by other prisoners, looking for someone to take their problems out on. And he happens to stand a head taller than most.

"Oh, that's your solution?" He laughs now, a genuinely cackle that sounds ugly and coarse but there's still amusement in it. "Don't think that would help much." He illustrates his point, still towering over her. "See? Apparently my grandpa on my mom's side was a freak. I blame him." Even though he knows his dad would claim his height was a gift from the Cross side.

He continues to help, ignoring her protest. "It's fine. Makes it go faster. Then maybe you can grab some extra sleep. Y'know, for all those fights." Sleep is hard to come by, even when it's lights out, the mind races. Mason's does and he bets Teddy's does as well. As they continue shoveling, he snickers a little. "Yeah, better than watching movies even. People don't know what they're missing," the Cross jokes with another cough, a frown pulling at his lips. "Do I think what?" He prompts anyway, shaking his head. Mason lowers his voice, "That we're gonna get outta here?" He glances at the guards not too far away and nods. "I know it. We will. Just gotta be patient." He nudges her shoulder, "that's your middle name ain't it?" Another grin. "Teddy Patience Prescott."

His coughing laugh brings out Teddy's, just quick and sharp as it irritates in her throat. Her hand flings up to her neck, as if it's any use against the burn. "I don't know about that." she mumbles in amusement as she tries to work, everything slow and painful as she moves. "Don't think I'm any u..." she coughs, any use trailing away with the noise. A save from her rambling with self pity. "Maybe if I could sleep, I'd make it look easy." she grins to herself. "You should probably slow down on them, Mase." she says next, her brows knitting with a concern she's had since they arrived. "You get in enough of them just walking around. Maybe try walking with your knees bent a little?" she coughs again with a slight laugh, the image in her head the best entertainment she's had for weeks.

It's not the harsh hush from a guard that stops her but Mason's helpfulness. It makes her feel a wave of guilt, but it also brings a tight smile to her lips. She does as instructed, foot driving to the top of the shovel in hopes of it breaking through frozen shit. "At least it doesn't smell. Unless...maybe my nose is blocked. All my snot is frozen." she wants to tilt her head back to show him, but decides against it. She laughs, though at the thought but there's a slight relief on her expression for even a moment of pause as Mason helps her.

"You really don't have to." she tells him, despite knowing it's no use and she takes a sweeping glance in case any keen guard eyes notice. But Mason's observation brings a nod, making her realize how she spent more time trying to prove her worth than anything else. Appreciating what she had. What they almost reached together. "Well, this is definitely the coolest hangout I've ever had. Who doesn't wanna shovel shit? It was a thousand percent on my bucket list." she mumbles, trying her hand at Mason's advice again with a sharp kick to join her words. "I think we're in week two." it's only speculation, every day feels the same and they all seep into each other. "Do you think-" she frowns before shooting him a look. "Actually, nevermind. I don't wanna think about how worried everyone is."

[ofwrxth]

Mason coughs a laugh at her jab, clearing his throat against the painful scratching. "Okay, well, I can't exactly help that," he says with a bit of amusement. At least she's still got her quips. He's about to protest the return of his glove but, honestly, he's glad for it. "You'd'a probably won if you did," Mason nods, his own smile growing despite the split lip and bruised face. He hates the fact that she's there at all but Mason's glad that at least he's there with her. With his cousin and uncle. "You'd be the underdog everyone goes crazy. Teddy Mysterio," he adds before catching sight of the soldier with a clenched jaw. "Got it," comes his softer reply, making mental note to tell his uncle when he sees him next.

"It'll help if you dig your foot in up top," Mason gestures at her shovel. "Like this," he shows her, slamming his foot into the top of the shovel with force so it can break ground. "Fucking frozen and pointless otherwise, Ted. Lemme help you with yours." At least then she can maybe head into their barracks sooner. And without awaiting a reply, he does exactly what he'd just instructed, foot hitting the shovel to drive it into the frozen shit, moving it to the designated pile for burning. "Y'know, this is the longest we've hung out I think." Mason observes with a slight smirk. "What's it been? eight day?" Or two weeks. He can't remember. All he knows is that they're up with the sun, and falling asleep when there's no light to work by. For all he knows it could be a week, it could be five. His only focus isn't on time but on survival. On making sure that he makes it. That Hunter and Tyr make it. That Teddy makes it.

Defeat has truly won. Teddy can't find the surge of energy for anything and there's no glimmer of her usual Prescott determination. She hates that now it becomes abundantly clear that she was in over her head, and now even more so in the bleak and volatile landscape of the camp. She hates that every time she looks to Mason, there's more wounds added to the ones that he can't even heal from fast enough. She hates that she can't offer to take his place when there's a fight, because she finally feels as vulnerable as she was told she was. She hates it.

It's why any defiance she would have from his help doesn't even happen as he offers his gloves to her. All she can do is sigh from a frustration that he won't have them for himself. She should say thank you but Teddy is frowning as she studies his face, lips twitching as she notices his wry smirk. "Kinda your own fault for having shovel hands." she mumbles but even her humor is weak, gaze dropping as he tugs on the gloves but as soon as he does, one is pulled off her hand and insisted back to him. "One each is fair. Considering I didn't even fight for them."

Before she can say much else, a passing soldier urges her to get back to work and her head follows their movements until they're gone from her line of sight. "Thirty." she coughs slightly to hide her observation, keeping her voice quiet before she glances to Mase. "Minutes." she mouths the rest of the information, because she can't be of any other use than watching.

[rviner]

His coughing laugh brings out Teddy's, just quick and sharp as it irritates in her throat. Her hand flings up to her neck, as if it's any use against the burn. "I don't know about that." she mumbles in amusement as she tries to work, everything slow and painful as she moves. "Don't think I'm any u..." she coughs, any use trailing away with the noise. A save from her rambling with self pity. "Maybe if I could sleep, I'd make it look easy." she grins to herself. "You should probably slow down on them, Mase." she says next, her brows knitting with a concern she's had since they arrived. "You get in enough of them just walking around. Maybe try walking with your knees bent a little?" she coughs again with a slight laugh, the image in her head the best entertainment she's had for weeks.

It's not the harsh hush from a guard that stops her but Mason's helpfulness. It makes her feel a wave of guilt, but it also brings a tight smile to her lips. She does as instructed, foot driving to the top of the shovel in hopes of it breaking through frozen shit. "At least it doesn't smell. Unless...maybe my nose is blocked. All my snot is frozen." she wants to tilt her head back to show him, but decides against it. She laughs, though at the thought but there's a slight relief on her expression for even a moment of pause as Mason helps her.

"You really don't have to." she tells him, despite knowing it's no use and she takes a sweeping glance in case any keen guard eyes notice. But Mason's observation brings a nod, making her realize how she spent more time trying to prove her worth than anything else. Appreciating what she had. What they almost reached together. "Well, this is definitely the coolest hangout I've ever had. Who doesn't wanna shovel shit? It was a thousand percent on my bucket list." she mumbles, trying her hand at Mason's advice again with a sharp kick to join her words. "I think we're in week two." it's only speculation, every day feels the same and they all seep into each other. "Do you think-" she frowns before shooting him a look. "Actually, nevermind. I don't wanna think about how worried everyone is."

Mason coughs a laugh at her jab, clearing his throat against the painful scratching. "Okay, well, I can't exactly help that," he says with a bit of amusement. At least she's still got her quips. He's about to protest the return of his glove but, honestly, he's glad for it. "You'd'a probably won if you did," Mason nods, his own smile growing despite the split lip and bruised face. He hates the fact that she's there at all but Mason's glad that at least he's there with her. With his cousin and uncle. "You'd be the underdog everyone goes crazy. Teddy Mysterio," he adds before catching sight of the soldier with a clenched jaw. "Got it," comes his softer reply, making mental note to tell his uncle when he sees him next.

"It'll help if you dig your foot in up top," Mason gestures at her shovel. "Like this," he shows her, slamming his foot into the top of the shovel with force so it can break ground. "Fucking frozen and pointless otherwise, Ted. Lemme help you with yours." At least then she can maybe head into their barracks sooner. And without awaiting a reply, he does exactly what he'd just instructed, foot hitting the shovel to drive it into the frozen shit, moving it to the designated pile for burning. "Y'know, this is the longest we've hung out I think." Mason observes with a slight smirk. "What's it been? eight day?" Or two weeks. He can't remember. All he knows is that they're up with the sun, and falling asleep when there's no light to work by. For all he knows it could be a week, it could be five. His only focus isn't on time but on survival. On making sure that he makes it. That Hunter and Tyr make it. That Teddy makes it.

[rviner]

Defeat has truly won. Teddy can't find the surge of energy for anything and there's no glimmer of her usual Prescott determination. She hates that now it becomes abundantly clear that she was in over her head, and now even more so in the bleak and volatile landscape of the camp. She hates that every time she looks to Mason, there's more wounds added to the ones that he can't even heal from fast enough. She hates that she can't offer to take his place when there's a fight, because she finally feels as vulnerable as she was told she was. She hates it.

It's why any defiance she would have from his help doesn't even happen as he offers his gloves to her. All she can do is sigh from a frustration that he won't have them for himself. She should say thank you but Teddy is frowning as she studies his face, lips twitching as she notices his wry smirk. "Kinda your own fault for having shovel hands." she mumbles but even her humor is weak, gaze dropping as he tugs on the gloves but as soon as he does, one is pulled off her hand and insisted back to him. "One each is fair. Considering I didn't even fight for them."

Before she can say much else, a passing soldier urges her to get back to work and her head follows their movements until they're gone from her line of sight. "Thirty." she coughs slightly to hide her observation, keeping her voice quiet before she glances to Mase. "Minutes." she mouths the rest of the information, because she can't be of any other use than watching.

+ TEDDY / THUNDER RIVER

Wolfsbane slows his healing, but Mason doesn't have time before he's pulled onto shifts, head still swimming as his hands somehow manage to do what he's told. It's a large camp, but he sticks close to those he knows and tries to keep his head up. He thinks of his dad, willing him to know he's alive. He's okay. He'll be okay. They all will. They have to be. He thinks of his uncles, probably worried. And then he thinks of Charlie. Probably sick to her stomach over Teddy and like that, his gaze goes to the small wolf, making sure he's always near her on their arbitrary shifts. Mason watces her shiver and rub her hands together as she grabs a shovel. Shit duty. He prefers it to the fights. He prefers it to the building. "Here," he says, leaving his pile and peeling off the ratty gloves he'd won in a fight the day before. The ache of it was slowly rolling away even if it should've been an hour or two, rather than a day before he felt better. "They're kinda small on me anyway," Mason adds with a wry smile, taking her hands and slipping them on her before she can protest. "Might help a bit," as gripping a freezing shovel is joint numbing work after an hour. @rviner