Right. [He couldn't help the laugh that burst out of him: short, dry and broken all at once. He was reminded of the forest fire that raced through the arena their year. The smoke choking their lungs and the fire herding them to the river. Cato felt his eyes start to burn but knew if he closed them that tears might fall. Like hell, he was going to cry.]
Don't want to do that.
[The stove was sturdy and built into the counter but the metal creaked nonetheless.]
Re: december 20th; action
Don't want to do that.
[The stove was sturdy and built into the counter but the metal creaked nonetheless.]
Clove.