Fiona stood back and watched Autumn loot the bodies, arms folded across her chest. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes never wandered from the sight of the other girl. She took Nik's gun and Staffan's dynamite, took all of their food and water, left absolutely nothing behind. A very tiny part of Fiona wanted to step in and argue with Autumn, but she was too afraid. Afraid of what? She wasn't entirely sure, but she didn't want to interfere with the looting that was going on.
It was only right. Autumn knew Nik and Evelyn better than Fiona, so she should have the rights to everything they had, right? She wasn't sure. There were no politics in Survival of the Fittest, and there was nothing stopping the larger girl from holding up her axe and chasing Autumn around like a psycho. Fiona actually considered it, more for amusement's sake than the actual desire to have some of the things that Autumn stole, but she pushed the urge away. No, don't make a bad name for yourself yet. Not when people could possibly be wary of you.
The extra rations would have been nice though. Fiona did tend to get hungrier than the average person, but... looking at her extra weight, she figured she could afford to cut down on the carbs. Bread had a shit-ton of carbs, right? Whatever. Wasn't important now. Wasn't her rations. Autumn could do whatever she wanted with them. Fiona promised herself that she wouldn't say anything. She'd grin and bear it.
Something hit the ground in front of her, and she realized that Autumn tossed her gun and some magazines at Fiona's feet. She stared dumbstruck at the gun, unsure of whether she should just take it or leave it. A gun would be nice, this she could not deny. And, of course, it was nice of Autumn to hand over the small pistol! She could have just waltzed off and given Fiona absolutely nothing. It wasn't like she had to, there weren't any particular rules or regulations about the possessions of the dead.
She didn't manage to thank Autumn, she merely knelt down and scooped up the weapon and its magazines, stowing it all in the bottom of her black duffel pack. Slinging the strap over her shoulder and tightening her grip on her trusty axe, she raised it high into the air and reveled in the little glint of light the sun cast across the bloodied blade, still fresh with Staffan's blood.
She lowered it again, turning away from Autumn and in the direction of the rising sun. It was time to go and leave this blood bath. Maybe she'd never make any friends or find a place of safety. Maybe she'd never live to see tomorrow or redeem her image, but Fiona didn't care. She just wanted to be far away from the house of mirrors and the memories that lied there.
"Thanks for trying."
Fiona turned her head around and gave Autumn the most beautiful smile she could manage. "I did try, didn't I? Even Staffan would agree that I definitely succeeded!"
Peace out, Autumn.
((Fiona Sparki continued in I Am Jack's Inflamed Sense of Rejection