[ Hickey is unfazed by the group's reaction. He may not have predicted the doctor would be this bold, but the sabotage is hardly unexpected. Goodsir has hated him for months. Really, it's a wonder that it took him so long to act on that disdain. That the others could not see this is not his concern. ]
The point was to kill us. All of us. He must've spotted the Tuunbaq on our heels and devised this plot to weaken us for its attack.
[ He looks around at his men as he says it. He's in no mood to play inspiring leader, but he knows he must capitalize on this moment. They've overcome a common enemy together and escaped with their lives against abysmal odds. Morale is in short supply and they'll need the boost to push through this last leg of their journey.
Luckily, Angelo helps with that as well, pointing out their remaining store of food. The tins are not ideal, but it's enough to last for now. ]
Des Voeux, how much longer until we reach the ships?
[ But it's Hodgson that answers: "If I may," he starts, voice hesitant, "I would suggest we abandon any supplies we can afford to go without. A lighter load will quicken our pace."
"The tents." Tozer has managed to prop a gasping Diggle up to get some water into him. "We can go for broke. Row in shifts."
"That could save us half a day, maybe more," Des Voeux says.
Hickey and Hodgson regard each other for a moment. Tozer gets a glance, as well. This is an interesting development. He gives Hodgson a nod. ]
Save one and toss the others then, lieutenant.
[ The men get to work, and Hickey turns to Angelo. ]
Do what you can for Mr. Diggle.
[ Their eyes catch for an instant, but Hickey shoves himself off the gunwale before the exchange can become some charged thing between them. He doesn't want to be near Angelo anymore, not with their full group in such close proximity. Not when he already has a full load of uncomfortable thoughts to process. His upset is a solo venture.
But he doesn't think of taking the cigarette case back. The emptiness of his pocket makes him uneasy, his hand darting to check for its usual contents on reflex, but despite the momentary pangs of anxiety, he feels safer with the case in Angelo's possession.
He moves to the back of the boat, where he can operate the steering oar without agitating his wounds too much—and thus has an excuse to keep to himself for the time being. He wedges the oar against the ice floe next to them to steady their tiny vessel while the other men heave the tents over the side. ]
no subject
The point was to kill us. All of us. He must've spotted the Tuunbaq on our heels and devised this plot to weaken us for its attack.
[ He looks around at his men as he says it. He's in no mood to play inspiring leader, but he knows he must capitalize on this moment. They've overcome a common enemy together and escaped with their lives against abysmal odds. Morale is in short supply and they'll need the boost to push through this last leg of their journey.
Luckily, Angelo helps with that as well, pointing out their remaining store of food. The tins are not ideal, but it's enough to last for now. ]
Des Voeux, how much longer until we reach the ships?
[ But it's Hodgson that answers: "If I may," he starts, voice hesitant, "I would suggest we abandon any supplies we can afford to go without. A lighter load will quicken our pace."
"The tents." Tozer has managed to prop a gasping Diggle up to get some water into him. "We can go for broke. Row in shifts."
"That could save us half a day, maybe more," Des Voeux says.
Hickey and Hodgson regard each other for a moment. Tozer gets a glance, as well. This is an interesting development. He gives Hodgson a nod. ]
Save one and toss the others then, lieutenant.
[ The men get to work, and Hickey turns to Angelo. ]
Do what you can for Mr. Diggle.
[ Their eyes catch for an instant, but Hickey shoves himself off the gunwale before the exchange can become some charged thing between them. He doesn't want to be near Angelo anymore, not with their full group in such close proximity. Not when he already has a full load of uncomfortable thoughts to process. His upset is a solo venture.
But he doesn't think of taking the cigarette case back. The emptiness of his pocket makes him uneasy, his hand darting to check for its usual contents on reflex, but despite the momentary pangs of anxiety, he feels safer with the case in Angelo's possession.
He moves to the back of the boat, where he can operate the steering oar without agitating his wounds too much—and thus has an excuse to keep to himself for the time being. He wedges the oar against the ice floe next to them to steady their tiny vessel while the other men heave the tents over the side. ]