I was looking at the dark, wooden door for a few minutes, but it seemed like hours I'm not too good with patience clearly but I'm sixteen, it's to be expected. All I could hear was the fireplace crackling.
How long have I been here?
Where even am I ? And who was that lady with the mask from earlier? These were all questions circling around my head.
My thoughts were then halted when someone burst through the door.
"Copper!! you're awake yay" They yelled quite abruptly.
It was my best friend Pocket. Pocket was now jumping around the room in a excited way. They were acting childlike, which was a nice break from the depressed teen I normally had around me. I told him to calm down and that I was ok.
After about half an hour of talking I finally understood the situation. They ran away like I told them but found a small village at the end of the forest. They went to the closest door and knocked on it hoping to find someone that would help, luckily someone opened it. The someone being the lady from earlier she seems nice, but did not talk much.
Pocket then told me that he was worried when the lady brought me back, passed out and pale as the snow around me. I looked at him with pity. He almost lost me, how traumatizing would that be for him especially after losing his father so recently.
"I honestly didn't know if I was gonna make it, I could feel the last bits of warmth start to leave my body." I whispered, avoiding his gaze.
We both then fell silent for a second. Pocket tucked my long ginger hair behind one of my ears and told me,
"It's ok now. We have you back safe and warm. I would have gone myself to look for you, but I had to keep the others safe. You know how much you mean to us but you told me to always stay with them so I did." He told me with a gentle voice, tears welling up in his eyes.
I told him he was right, I wouldn't want him to look for me if it would endanger the others. Pocket was a skinny boy with no skills other than gathering and mapping the areas we have been. He's good at locations and memorizing things, so he's our navigator. It was Pocket that found us the previous shelter dangerous or not it was good for a while. His dark brown hair --some might call it black-- against his light olive skin looked beautiful under the firelight. I couldn't help but blush.
Pocket got his name from his father a watch maker, the best in our childhood town. That was until the virus hit. When that happened no one was allowed to make anything clockwork and anyone caught doing it would be arrested.
His father, the ever stern man, fought with the policy trying to keep his business on the lowdown, it was his passion. However, got careless and dealt with shady people who ratted him out when he wouldn't give them a discount and he was taken by the enforcement officers. Well more like shady white knight jackasses trying to get a pay raise.