'Round the Fields (Duncan)

Marceline's feet padded along as she slipped under a spot in the fence. It was electrocuted almost 24/7-just a fluke that there were pieces rusted to the point they had fallen apart. A large enough hole to lsip under; a precarious venture, at best, but well worth it.

Marceline skirted the edge of the fence. Animals roamed the fields-some wild, some owned. She would much prefer to take the owned ones, as they were fatter and generally gave less of a chance to catch some God awful disease. She could steal-she'd much rather die than live-and she did, but somewhere was the human nature to survive, buried in Marceline's dead, alien heart.

Making hardly a sound, Marceline threw her knife. There was the slight whistling sound, the alarmed clucks of chickens and turkey, and the satisfying strangled last cries of a dying animal. Marceline pulled the knife out of the turkey's neck. It was a fairly safe bet that the turkey was wild, considering Marceline didn't think people farmed turkeys. Then again, Marceline lived out on the other side of the fence, where you could take what you please and she was blissfully ignorant of the going-ons inside her District.

The rustling noises made her jump. Her twisted ankle didn't fare well. She fell to the ground, her leg stuck out at a very awkward angle. Even without getting up, she could tell that it was worse than a twist this time. Her knife had fallen from her hand, and she couldn't reach it. She could only hope it wasn't some wild animal come to rip out her throat-or, even better, that it was, and it could end this suffering waste of oxygen. Weak and helpless, Marceline once again replayed her sister's death-helpless, emaciated, and so scared. A quick slit across her throat, stained bright red-these things replayed as she sat, useless, on the ground in the fields.

Duncan walks along a fence, his uke strung across his back, his bag that sweeps across his chest. He runs a stick along the fence to make a clanging noise with one hand and the other tugs at his lip ring carelessly. His mind clouded with ideas, he doesn't even care if someone catches him there.
His aunt now gone, work is something he now has to do by himself to pay for the home, even if she didn't love or do anything for him in the first place.

Reaching the end of the fence, a soft rustling noise and a grunt catches his attention. Duncan drops the stick and turns in the direction of the noise, furrowing his brow. He starts off into a sprint, wondering if an animal or person is in trouble.

He draws near a field, animals running in every which way direction. On the ground lies a girl with dark, long black hair. Duncan chuckles a bit as he draws closer, recognizing her from before.

And oh, how he wanted to see her again.

"Marceline, how's it been?" He asks as he crotches down to smile at her.

Marceline's bright eyes flashed up in alarm, and also curiousity. The voice was familiar, human, but she couldn't quite place it. It stirred up a general happiness that Marceline generally associated with good memories and her sister, but she still didn't quite recognize. Not until the boy it belonged to was crouched down right in front of her, smiling at her.

"Duncan," she grinned, then coughed, the breath having been knocked out of her. Of all the things that could have scared the living daylights out of her, human or animal, Duncan was farther up on the top of the list than most people. "Jesus, boy, you scared me!" her eyes widened, and she tried to make it sound like she was reprimanding him, but considering she was smiling, it didn't really work. It had been awhile since she'd seen Duncan, and honestly, she was glad to be seeing him again. It was good to see a familiar face-a friend, so to speak. "So, how's it been?" Marceline asked, trying to sound casual but still sounding rather flustered and breathless from her fall. She pulled up her knees, trying to avoid bumping her now surely broken-or at the very least terribly sprained-ankle against anything.

"Scaring is my specialty, young one. Don't forget it," Duncan laughs, looking back at her leg. It looked too hurt for him to comment on, so he'd just try to help her with it. "And I've been rather fine, but I can't say the same about you." He points at her ankle and chuckles, moving to kneel in front of her. He scoops her up in his arms and puts her on his back. Duncan takes the turkey she killed and puts it on the strap of his bag. "You must tell me how you did that to your ankle. That will be an interesting story, I can just tell already."

Marceline laughed. "I'd have to be dead to, don't worry about that boy." She grinned at him. Marceline was almost stunned at how easily Duncan picked her up, before remembering that she was pathetically small for a fifteen year old. "I'm just fine, trust me." Considering she was bleeding and bruised and broken and every other 'B' word you could think of, it wasn't very convincing. She thought about it for a minute, then decided upon telling him a half truth. Or maybe even selective truth-she wasn't exactly lying. "It was a small sprain, until someone startled the living daylights out of me," she jokingly punched his back, before jumping off of him. Her ankle screamed protest, but she managed to stick a landing and limp without wanting to shoot her foot off. "Actually similar to how I made it this bad. I was out in the woods and I got startled." She shrugged, then had an idea, spotting the turkey Duncan had salvaged. "You hungry?" she asked, grinning mischievously. Then, not waiting for an answer, she smiled and gestured. "Follow me!" Marceline attempted breaking into a run, then slipped and nearly fell. "Never mind," she muttered. "Alright, follow me!" she smiled again, walking slower this time.

Duncan watches her and rolls his eyes, eyeing her with worry. "Really Marcie," he purses his lips when she jumps out of his arms. "It's alright. You should let me carry you. You're gonna make it worse."
He follows behind her, just in case he has to catch her. When she starts to break out into a run, Duncan's eyes widen as he sprints forward, just in case of a big fall. She catches herself and keeps walking. "Jesus Christ, Marcie. I doubt movement is really in your favor right now." he stops walking and watches her carefully. Her body looked broken and ruined, so small. Like she hadn't slept or eaten in ages.
Duncan jogs in front of her and gets down on his knees, making loops with his arms. "Jump on. Point the way we have to go. But you're gonna let me take a look at your body a bit..." he blushes and looks away. "Only the broken weird parts."

Marceline rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at him. Her attitude remained joking, although the substantial pain in her ankle was nothing to the emotional stab. He'd called her Marcie, like her sister, like her family. It was comforting, as well as depressing. "I'm fine," she grinned. "Just fine," she called. Of course, the fact she tripped over herself wasn't helping. "Oh, my dear Duncan, I do believe the odds are in my favor," she tried to make it sound like a joke, but her voice cracked ever so slightly on the last word. Thoughts of her sister-the odds were not in her favor, never were.

Her eyes widened, and she smiled, ignoring the flush in the back of her neck. Her face remained lucid. "You'll have to catch me first," she teased. Then she remembered that she couldn't run. "Err...okay, that's not all that difficult. Hey! I've suffered worse, trust me on that," she nodded. "Besides, right here's fine." She pointed to the broken piece of fence, ducking under it with expertise. "Be careful not to hit the live parts-this part's rotted out, but around it's not." She took a few steps back, gesturing for him to follow her.