Chapter 17 - Picking Up Sticks

                                        

                                              
New Year~
Hopefully, everyone had some good celebrations. I know I did; I passed out and now I don't know if I'm alive or dead.
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Location: Shiganshina District, Wall Maria
Year: 845, Spring
Time: Morning




It was the start of spring. The snow had already melted, leaving the ground soft in some places and muddy in others. The temperature was perfect as well—perfect for sweaters or T-shirts if someone was feeling bold.
I crouched near the edge of the grove, surrounded by scattered branches and fallen twigs. They had fallen off and died over the harsh winter and I was here to... inspect them.
My fingers brushed over a pile of sticks as I tested their dryness, snapping one between my hands. 
Snap!
A clean break with no moisture seeping out. 
Good. 
Dry sticks burned better, providing a steady flame with less smoke. Damp wood is a waste of time—the moisture fought against the heat, making the fire sputter and hiss. It was basic science, something anyone could understand if they gave it a moment of thought.
"?"
A faint tap on my shoulder broke my concentration. I turned my head to find Mikasa's dark eyes watching me intently. 
"What are you doing?" 
"What are you doing?" she parroted, tilting her head. Her eyes flicked to the sticks scattered around, questioning what I was up to.
I didn't respond immediately. Instead, I picked up one of the drier sticks and held it up. "Looking for the driest ones."
Mikasa blinked at me, then shifted her posture to show me the makeshift backpack she was carrying. It was full of firewood bundled together and tied down with some cloth. 
"Are these okay?" 
I studied her collection. Most of the sticks were damp, probably collected from the wetter patches of the grove. They weren't ideal, but they could dry out when we got home.
"They'll do," I said after a moment. "They'll dry before you'll need them."
She frowned slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line. "I'll find better ones next time," she murmured to herself.
I paused, watching her. Mikasa had this tendency to seek my approval, though I never asked for it. It was strange, but I wasn't inclined to comment on it yet. Instead, I gathered the sticks I'd deemed dry enough and placed them into her backpack, the extra weight causing her to shift slightly to adjust her balance.
"Is that heavy for you?"
"No."
"Are you sure—"
"It's not heavy."
I raised my hands in surrender as Mikasa suddenly straightened. 
"Eren fell asleep under a tree. I saw him lying down over there," she said, pointing toward the woods. 
I sighed, brushing some dirt off my hands. "It's muddy. He'll probably regret that later," I muttered. "Let's go wake him up."
Mikasa nodded, adjusting the straps of her backpack. Then, without hesitation, she reached out her hand toward me.