"It smells really good.", Layla says, her voice soft with hunger.
August moves to one of the bags and rummages through it for a moment. He pulls out a small set of utensils and hands them over to Layla. She accepts them with a small, grateful smile and immediately sets about trying to flip the meat on the makeshift stove, clumsily stabbing at it with a fork, managing to flip it over without spilling any.
August continues searching the crates in the room, finding some basic medical supplies and a small tool kit, along with more blocks of C-4. He moves to his duffel bags, storing the medical supplies and tool kit while retrieving a plastic ziplock bag. He carefully places the inert explosives inside, sealing the bag tightly to ensure nothing can jostle loose or mix with anything dangerous.
Layla's stomach growls audibly as the meat sizzles, and she turns to August with a hopeful look. "It's almost done," she says, her words laced with eagerness. "Should we eat soon?"
August remembers the aluminum sheets he saw in one of the crates. He stores away the C-4 in his duffel bag and goes to check the specific crate. Layla watches, a mix of curiosity and apprehension in her gaze, as he retrieves the aluminum sheets and starts cutting them with his knife. The groan and screech of metal against metal fills the room, Layla grimacing at the sound before August ceases his work. August brings two sheets, recently cut with finesse, and gives one to Layla as a makeshift plate.
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As August and Layla finish their meal, the barracks fall into silence around them, the flickering light of the C-4 stove casting a warm glow on their faces. The savory taste of the meat lingers on their tongues, a welcome respite from the bland rations they've been surviving on.
Layla licks her fingers clean, a satisfied smile on her face as she leans back against the wall. "That was delicious," she says, her voice soft with contentment.
August stands up, carefully balancing the makeshift aluminum plates in one hand as he approaches the still-burning plastic explosive.
Layla watches him with a concerned frown, sensing his intention. "What are you doing?" she asks, her voice tinged with worry.
"C-4 makes poisonous fumes. We should get rid of it to ensure our safety." August's tone is calm, soft as always.
Layla's eyes widen as she nods in understanding "Oh, okay." she says, pushing herself up from the floor. She quickly gathers the empty can of meat, trying to help August clean up the makeshift dining area. August snuffs out the C-4 and picks it up. He carefully makes his way towards the door of the barracks.
Layla follows close behind August, her eyes darting around the room with a mix of unease and curiosity.
He feels her gaze on him as he pushes open the door, the chill of the outdoors immediately hitting the two of them like a physical blow. The cold air rushes in, swirling around their legs and biting at their skin through their clothing.
Layla shivers slightly but keeps close behind him as he steps out into the night. The snow beneath their feet crunches softly, muffling the sounds of the world around them. The moon hangs high in the sky, casting a silvery light over the rocky landscape, reflecting off the pristine snow and making the world seem both peaceful and hauntingly beautiful.
The bitter cold immediately sinks into August's bones, a stark contrast to the warm glow of the barracks. He feels his breath misting in the air as he carefully carries the burned aluminum around the C-4, trying to keep it as far from his body as possible.
Layla follows closely behind him, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she shivers in the cold. "Where are you going to...?"
August treads a few steps forward through the snow, gauging the distance carefully. With a quick motion, he hurls the foil containing the C-4 as far as he can. It arcs through the air, the aluminum glinting faintly in the moonlight, before disappearing into a deep drift.
After a tense moment, nothing happens. Layla lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "I... I thought it would explode."
August and Layla head back inside the barracks, the cold night air nipping at their heels. As they step back through the door, the neutral temperature envelops them like a welcome embrace. The flickering light casts dancing shadows on the walls, and August can feel the tension in Layla's shoulders easing as the door closes behind them, shutting out the frigid temperatures.
They make their way towards the makeshift bed. The bed is simple, but after the frigid weather outside, it looks invitingly comfortable. Layla follows August, her eyes scanning the room warily, still on edge from the tension outside. As he sits down on the edge of the bed, he can feel the stiffness in his muscles from the day's exertions, the feeling of lactic acid slowly retreating as his body's healing does its job.
August feels Layla shiver beside him as they sit on the makeshift bed. The cold has seeped deep into her bones, and she rubs her arms vigorously in an attempt to warm herself. The barracks, while providing shelter from the elements, does little to combat the biting chill that permeates the air.
Layla's teeth chatter softly, and she wraps her arms around herself, trying to conserve what little body heat she has left. "I... I'm so cold."
August grabs two of the thicker blankets from the pile next to them and drapes them over his shoulders, then wraps one arm around Layla's shaking body, pulling her close. The heat from his body gradually seeps into hers, and her shivering slowly subsides.
She nestles closer to August, seeking more of his warmth. Her head comes to rest on his shoulder, her breath still coming in short, quick puffs, gradually steadying.
The soft rustle of the blankets fills the quiet room as they huddle together, seeking solace in each other's presence. Layla's breathing grows slower and deeper, her body relaxing as the warmth from their combined body heat begins to take effect.
As August closes his eyes, the sounds of the night begin to fade away. The soft crunch of snow outside from the wind, the distant howl of the wolf, all become muffled and distant. The night stretches on, silent and frozen, as sleep finally claims them both, locked in the warmth of each other's presence against the unyielding cold.