Misha crossed her arms and sighed. "That's gettin' pretty dark, kiddo." She silently wished those same thoughts hadn't crossed her mind. The brisk wind and swallowing grey of the forest did little to lighten her mood as she fumbled through the dying foliage in search of even a temporary fix for the dark and frigid camp. She was able to scrounge up a few small logs, but certainly not enough to do away with Destin's chilling thought. [i]'I don't think we're going to survive unless we get enough wood.' Definitely not.[/i] "We outta tell some of the jerks laying around camp that they're going to freeze to death if they don't stop making out instead of getting wood."