And Ace and Angie had been doing it for hours.
Though on murder island, the hours felt like days, right? Time went by here in dog years. He was sure that was by design. This whole shit was designed to be the most miserable moment in existence.
Ace was a babbler by nature but the events of the last day had left him cold and distant and silent and stuck with the storm that was himself. Guilt and grief mixed into a particularly viscous and hard to swallow cocktail.
He choked it down.
Both lackadaisical and in a daze in his personality and completely lacking a sense of direction, they wandered the sloping wilderness for a bit at a trudging pace. They stopped for a little bit, relaxed, conserved energy, looked wistfully up to the sky. They exchanged some pleasantries, Angie said something, Ace said something—you know how conversation works.
They were together but they were separate and Ace didn’t mind that at all. He felt like he owed Ramsey to take care of his sister, just a bit—but he couldn’t fight against his own mind and his own instinct.
He wanted to be alone.
He wanted to be by himself.
He swallowed his thoughts and broke his silent longing for solitude.
“Gettin’ dark,” he said calmly (what a fuckin' front, huh?) , “Let’s set up here for tonight.”
He nodded to himself…
“I’ll take the first watch...," he said with a weariness, "I dun think Imma be able to sleep anyway. I wasn't able to yesterday either...I dunno..."
He sighed...
"Maybe watchin' you saw some logs'll get me able to, I dunno."
Smoothest man alive, without a doubt.