A derisive laugh filled the cage. "Basic survival skills? You expect me to believe you've survived this long and not been tucked in a pretty hole somewhere...with basic skills?" Keen blue eyes narrowed at the strange woman. The tips of Anya's ears twitched. "And how do you expect to survive this place with basic skills? Us." She gave an indignant huff and motioned with her hand to the three of them. "A joke, since you don't seem interested in survival, after all. The physicians may have selected us for the vitamin trials, but with an attitude like that, we don't need to be a fucking team."
Or did they? Anya frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. She sure as shit wasn't getting out on her own, not with the way the vines seemed to slowly coalesce over the wooded form of their prison, and not without her blades.
Anya smirked a little. The other woman at least had a sharp tongue. Not a physical weapon, but one useful in some circumstances, nonetheless. "Perhaps my way out can involve your spoiled corpse. Bone might be useful for slicing through these tough vines." The threat was mostly empty, mostly a provocation to see if she could maneuver her hands onto the bag by her side. She didn't have a good enough reason to remove a perfectly healthy person from the playing field. Not when the other woman only slung words. It wouldn't do her any good to shatter the woman's eardrums; she'd still be stuck inside the cage. Though...basic survival skills or not, the woman did have nails that could break skin. The last thing Anya wanted--besides being burned alive--was catching an infection that would render her as useless and marked for death as the others who were her unwanted companions.
Anya hungrily watched her dig into her supplies and pondered other options. There was trying to piss off the vines around them enough to make them break formation--which could also result in them simply tightening impossibly around the cage walls. There was the smaller being she'd seen, the resulting argument--at least, that's what she believed it had to have been. There was calling out to the creatures outside that the man had fire--they'd seemed pretty pissed in the woodland.
Creatures.
"No. They took it and my knives. I will retrieve both the moment we're away from here." Now she was saying "we" again, not because she'd decided to change her mind and be a team player, but rather because she'd recognized something in that brutal rush of clarity: the people with her were human. Even she, a mutation, further mutilated by new tech, was still human.
The creatures outside? Not human.
Something feral within her seized on that humanity and clung. More was at stake here than the survival tactics she'd lived and breathed since birth.
The wristband-voice piped up across from her and her ears jolted forward at its words. Just as quickly, as its and his words registered, the color drained from her face. "What manner of hellish tech..." And did he say Kansas? "How...could you have been there? Kansas has been gone for quite some time."
But of course, maybe to him it hadn't been. Especially if dimension travel meant what she suspected.
"Your clothes are wrong, your attitudes too foolish to have secured your survival, and we're in a bastion of green...that shouldn't exist..." Anya's head spun and she uncrossed her arms, long enough to hike her legs to her chest and refold her arms over them once more.
Or did they? Anya frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. She sure as shit wasn't getting out on her own, not with the way the vines seemed to slowly coalesce over the wooded form of their prison, and not without her blades.
Anya smirked a little. The other woman at least had a sharp tongue. Not a physical weapon, but one useful in some circumstances, nonetheless. "Perhaps my way out can involve your spoiled corpse. Bone might be useful for slicing through these tough vines." The threat was mostly empty, mostly a provocation to see if she could maneuver her hands onto the bag by her side. She didn't have a good enough reason to remove a perfectly healthy person from the playing field. Not when the other woman only slung words. It wouldn't do her any good to shatter the woman's eardrums; she'd still be stuck inside the cage. Though...basic survival skills or not, the woman did have nails that could break skin. The last thing Anya wanted--besides being burned alive--was catching an infection that would render her as useless and marked for death as the others who were her unwanted companions.
Anya hungrily watched her dig into her supplies and pondered other options. There was trying to piss off the vines around them enough to make them break formation--which could also result in them simply tightening impossibly around the cage walls. There was the smaller being she'd seen, the resulting argument--at least, that's what she believed it had to have been. There was calling out to the creatures outside that the man had fire--they'd seemed pretty pissed in the woodland.
Creatures.
"No. They took it and my knives. I will retrieve both the moment we're away from here." Now she was saying "we" again, not because she'd decided to change her mind and be a team player, but rather because she'd recognized something in that brutal rush of clarity: the people with her were human. Even she, a mutation, further mutilated by new tech, was still human.
The creatures outside? Not human.
Something feral within her seized on that humanity and clung. More was at stake here than the survival tactics she'd lived and breathed since birth.
The wristband-voice piped up across from her and her ears jolted forward at its words. Just as quickly, as its and his words registered, the color drained from her face. "What manner of hellish tech..." And did he say Kansas? "How...could you have been there? Kansas has been gone for quite some time."
But of course, maybe to him it hadn't been. Especially if dimension travel meant what she suspected.
"Your clothes are wrong, your attitudes too foolish to have secured your survival, and we're in a bastion of green...that shouldn't exist..." Anya's head spun and she uncrossed her arms, long enough to hike her legs to her chest and refold her arms over them once more.
Dreams come in a size too big so we can grow into them.
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