nauticaldespotical

  I'm going to die, I thought. It was so matter-of-fact, so blunt and emotionless, that I almost just accepted it. My stomach heaved, curled around itself in another series of awful, wracking cramps. I had eaten nothing but marshmallow and peppermint for days. There wasn't even any water. The cool, clear trickle of stream that flowed down the mountains was simple syrup. I couldn't drink it, I couldn't choke even half a cup down. My throat ached. I'm going to die here. One of those kids is going to skid off the road and find me in a snowdrift of confectioner's sugar in a fetal position and the whole goddamn gaming community will lay the idea o