———

Pickle stepped into the destroyed Cabin silently. His eyes traced the charred wood and his nose studied the scent of smoke. The smell of fire... Cooked pork...? Flesh... He didn't want to think about it too much. Trophy, who stepped beside him, didn't either. Trophy glared at Pickle. He seemed silent and distant. He had a good idea as to why, yet also knew so very little. Floor boards which creaked and scraped filled the silence briefly, though, it didn't make it any less uncomfortable. Cold would've made things even less tolerable... But the heat from freshly burnt wood remained.

Trophy decided to speak, there was nothing better that could've been done anyway. "You knew her... Before all this... Didn't you?" He asked, narrow eyes... Filled with curiosity.

Pickle shut his eyes in contrast instantly, he tried his best not to be dragged back down by that memory... Combined with his outlook on recent events. As much as he didn't want to answer, he proceeded to anyway. "Yes..." He said briefly.

"Uh...Was she always this way? Uhm... murderous?" He asked cautiously, trying not to be too touchy, but, he'd never really been good at that.

"Ugh..." He spat through gritted teeth, "Does it really matter?!" His hostile glare was enough to kill.

Trophy hummed in acknowledgment, he walked over to a broken cabinet and rummaged through it in silence... only finally deciding to speak again as he shut it... "Everyone behaves like they do for a reason, right...?" He muttered.

Pickle blinked, remembering what Taco told him back at her house. He still questioned it's integrity... But something about it tugged at his heart. He sighed, "I don't know... Anymore..." He muttered in a near whisper.

Trophy looked over to him, "Do you have any idea—?"

"—Can we... Change the subject? Please?!"He snapped, looking back at Trophy with hostility once more. Sick of that... Feeling...

Trophy flinched and his gaze softened with slight sympathy, knowing he pushed his boundaries. "Right... Uhm..." He paused, "Knife... About Knife..." his voice trailed off as he searched for topic that could be used.

Pickle tilted his head in acknowledgement, "What about him?"

"He's been— Actin'... Weird... I guess." Trophy informed, as he made his way over to a set of drawers, rummaging through the remains next.

Pickle thought for a moment, realizing that was a fact. "Yeah... It might be because of this whole... Gateway thing." He shrugged... Looking away awkwardly. He proceeded to check a bookshelf briefly.

"You think something is wrong with him?" Trophy asked, not worriedly. Curiously more of. He shut a drawer suddenly which had made Pickle snap his head back briefly.

"I-Uh... I don't know." He said, slightly startled. He regained composure and turned back to the shelf. "Isn't there, something wrong with the lot of us?" He chuckled, smiling a little.

"Heh... I guess that's true." Trophy shook his head, "I don't get what you see in him..." Trophy muttered nonchalantly.

Pickle was a bit shocked by his bluntness. He laughed again, a bit dumbfounded, but not offended. "Not many do. You wouldn't be the first..." He joked, "In the end it comes down to what I see in him, and he sees in me."

Trophy rolled his eyes, "So philosophical... What are you? A love poet?" He grumbled, bored. Supposedly, anyway.

"Don't be so callous, Seems like you need help with your own love life..." Pickle chimed teasingly, which made Trophy nearly choke on nothing and shift to anger.

"I DO NOT!" He shouted, taken aback by such a claim. It was true, however. He'd never had a stable relationship really. He wasn't good at keeping them. Well, in a positive manner, anyway.

"Really? Well, if you ever need a date, I could find ya one." He chuckled, which made Trophy, shove the drawer he had been looking through closed instantly. He fumed and stormed off to another room as Pickle, cackled to himself in turn. Pickle's eyes soon averted to other corners of the ruins he was searching through. Nothing of interest. Not here. His amused glare deafened to a blank one as he stepped out. He'd seen Microphone storm off away from Knife... He raised a brow, and stepped towards them— but was quickly stopped as soon as he'd started when Clover stepped in front of him.

"Hey, uh... Pickle?" She called, nervous. That much was clear.

Pickle averted his gaze from his boyfriend to Clover. Confused. "Yes?" He spoke, watching her shift her weight from one side to the other out of unsureness. "Are you okay?"

"Do you think that... We should collect coats, and blankets? Because of the cold, I mean." She muttered beneath her breath. Nearly inaudible, but Pickle had caught most of it.

"That would probably help, eh?" He chuckled slightly. "Alright. You wanna go find some?" He asked, raising a brow.

Clover shrugged, "I guess I could." She whispered and smiled at him, before walking off. Pickle sighed, and turned back to where Knife had been standing. He was gone. Great. His eyes averted, darting and observing the surrounding area. They fell on Taco... Her ruined form more than evident. The girl's blood seeped into the snow below actively. He wasn't sure how to feel about that. Happy... or accomplished... they weren't the right words. Bitter was the closest thing he could get. But... It still wasn't the feeling in full. Somewhere between Bitter and Guilt, maybe. Then again, should such emotions be put into words, or left to be felt? Unsure. It didn't mean they didn't hurt any less. As well as how real they were.

The only face Pickle hadn't fully pinpointed was the most unfamiliar of the group... Fanny was nowhere to be seen. Curious... He glanced around once again, thinking of calling for her—but...His nerves got to him. He could have been remembering her name wrong... Or she may have left. So he just looked around for her instead. She's had to have been around there somewhere. Surely.

Fanny trotted through one of the houses in solitude. She didn't bother tell anyone where she was going. To be honest, she'd rather have been anywhere else but there. She hated how... Normal death seemed to them. As much as they were scared, they weren't. It bothered her. Paradoxical conflicting feelings, she didn't know how to understand like they did. And uncertainty is... Unsettling. As much as it is exciting, that is. But there was no room for excitement at the time... She felt grief and anger for those lost. Her friends... her family... All gone because a singular person decided it to be so. Unfair. Truly, she was cheated out of her life. How distasteful.

Her foot collided harshly with a small fragment of concrete below. It rattled along the ground and came to a tapping stop at the opposite wall. Glass fell from an already broken window. It made Fanny jump, she'd nearly fallen shortly after which. As stumbled back shed fallen against a charred—but not fully burnt—dresser. The article of furniture then gave a yelp.

Fanny perked and turned to face it... Warily... "Hello...?!" She beckoned cautiously... A defensive stance in case they were to try and get the jump on her.

There was silence for a brief moment, but, soon Cake emerged from the closet. "F-Fanny?! You're alive?!" Xey uttered, clearly shook to the core.

Fanny was shocked... No... Dumbfounded... Cake- He was alive...! A survivor a real, in the flesh survivor...! Fanny chuckled happily and opened her mouth to speak—only for Cake to commit to a nuzzling hug motion. Crying because they'd been scared out of their mind...! Fanny's eyes rested on Cake worriedly, not knowing how to handle this raw emotion unfolding in front of her.

"Th-they're all d-dead! They're all dead, Fanny!!!" Cake cried, their eyes leaking tears. Fanny flinched she didn't know what to do— or say...

"I'm sorry... That you had to suffer alone..." She muttered, trying to lean in to comfort Cake, since, she didn't have any arms to hug Xem back with. "I hate... not knowing what to say..." She frowned evidently.

Cake took a shaky breath, choking his own breath for a minute. "D-Don't be... I don't know what to say either...." He sniffled, then finally backed off, and looked aside with pained hint in their gaze.

"I'm glad you're alive." Fanny comforted, her face then blank... not knowing what emotion to express. She just... She was happy she'd had something.

Cake smiled warmly at Fanny.

Fanny turned, "There's people... Who came to help...? Outside. Follow me." She muttered, her gaze regained it's cold edge and she turned to walk out of the house. The slight sway of her cloak snapped Cake out of his momentary visit with their head in the clouds. Xey quickly followed Fanny.

Pickle walked silently along the perimeter of the village. Nothing too out of the ordinary—other than the bodies of those long deceased—were around. He recoils after listening to the sharp crunch and shift of bone crunching beneath his foot in the snow. He took a shaky step back. Taco did all of this? How could someone so small cause so much damage? Anguish...? Discretion? It was difficult yo believe. Though, he supposed at the time, she wasn't small. Rather large, actually... What if she became that way again? He reminded himself on why they had to... Bring her with them... To keep watch. And prevent her from harming anyone else.

Trophy's words...

'Everyone behaves like they do for a reason, right...?'

What reason would Taco have to destroy this? Lives? People? She never seemed like the type to... Massacre an entire Village for fun. Did she do it in favour of someone? Protecting... She said something about that, didn't she? He couldn't remember what she'd said. But the more he thought about it, the less he wanted to. He didn't want to risk compromising the safety of his friends for uncertainty. An unlikely thought that would soon dwindle away regardless.

He wondered if the others shared his pity.

He heard a door nudge open from afar. His head turned slowly to meet eyes with Fanny. As she jumped out of a damaged house—though less damaged in comparison to those which surrounded—and rushed over, a new face by her side.

Pickle seemed wary, his eyes narrowed as they laid upon the new figure, "Who is this—... Uh... Fanny?" He muttered defensively.

"My neighbour, Cake." Fanny replied, shaking the soot and ash off her cloak. Cake stood shyly next to Fanny, and had a hard time maintaining any eye contact with Pickle.

"Uhm... Right." He was going to hold out a hand for Cake to shake, but stopped half way as he realized. "Uh—..." He didn't know what to say... His question had been answered. Fanny is safe. "Are you hurt...At all...?" Pickle raised a brow as his hand dropped next to him, swaying to a stop near his side.

Cake nodded slightly, which made Fanny flinch, she'd not noticed. Cake was leaking icing from their side... and their knee looked sprained.

"Uh.. I'm not exactly a doctor, but I'll try me best kid. Follow me." He lead them over to one of the houses. Cake and Fanny followed behind.

Across the ruins there was what was allegedly believed to be a lonely ruined soul... waste of air, whatever one would want to believe. She rested in her own blood...Taco was exhausted... in excruciating pain... But she thought she surely deserved it, so what should it matter? This is what Sh deserved, surely...

She could hear every little draft... the screaming now ringing in her ears... For the first time the memory wasn't vivid... A new feeling which confused her. She hated it... that ringing. The high pitch voices that screamed from every corner. Taco shakily breathed... that's when she heard it.

There was a faint rustle... It sounded like bushes... She couldn't see— her eyes were supposed to have been kicked through—But she'd open them this time. Insecurity, fear, worry, and curiosity in her way... Her eyes rested on a bush across from her... a bush... and two beady eyes staring at her. She flinched... a crack shot through her shell, and she whined. Her eyes then soon drifted back onto the figure in the bush. She opened her mouth to speak, but her lips did not obey command. She was in a seemingly-never ending staring contest with the thing which rested in the shrubbery ahead...

The eyes blink once...

Taco does a mimicked response.

And it had left as fast as it had arrived. Taco's eyes drifted from hope to nothingness in an instant. She'd gotten her hopes up, why would anyone appreciate such a person? Creature...?

Thing....

She let her head and body go limp. Allowing against and cold to dig into her flesh once more. There was no reason to dwell keep fighting in this moment. So, she didn't.

Pickle stepped quickly up the stairs of a moderately stable house, and walked in. He shoved a few loose boards aside and strode through the hallway. He rummaged through cupboards that looked important... trying to find first aid supplies.

Fanny sighed annoyedly. "My father is a doctor... You don't need to... Steal..." She spat, quite upset he was disrespecting their property. Or at least... Whoever used to live here.

Pickle shifted his gaze to slight annoyance, and looked taken aback. "You... They're all dead. Fanny... I'm trying to help your friend!" He reasoned.

"THEY STILL LIVED ONCE YOU KNOW!" She gritted caustically, which made Cake flinch and worriedly nudge her shoulder comfortingly. Danny then huffed sadly.

Pickle had trouble... Understanding their panic... As much as he did. It was strange. He frowned to himself, and cursed himself for forgetting what Fanny said, was a fact. They were all once alive. It's only fair to be respectful. "Can you show me?" He asked solemnly, his gaze softened with sympathy.

Fanny rolled her eyes, and walked off out of the house. "I hate newcomers..." She growled to herself.

Pickle followed warily, leaning to the side to whisper to Cake; "Is—She uh... Always like that...?" He pointed at the girl who stomped angrily ahead. As of a child throwing a tantrum.

"More or less... ahah!" Cake smiled softly, but nervously. Shy, and not bothering to keep eye contact. Pickle nodded and walked up ahead, Cake watched this happen. Xey walk from behind and sighed to themself... their feet dragging in the snow as they walked...

But, they heard a rustle nearby. He jumped, and looked around... Nobody to be found... He stopped to get a better listen. Cake tried to ignore the grizzly bodies and destroyed debris. The crunch of the snow had king ceased. And so did the presence of another. He furrowed his brows—until he was shouted to by Pickle.

"Cake!!! This way!" He beckoned, which made Cake whip his head towards the source of is call. And he sprung over, as much as their knee hurt... He needed to get it fixed.

He was glad to be around people again...

———