Day Five: Early Morning

[Orion]

The two stayed still for a while, having only just woken up from an inefficient and worrisome sleep. Koola was supposed to keep watch while King Cold rested, but the violet skinned prince lost the battle against fatigue and hunger and succumbed to it. Thankfully, he jolted awake from a bad dream he couldn't remember before Cold arose, masking his failure.

"Dammit, where's the sun?" Koola asked, looking to the slowly luminating horizon. "I'm getting cold."

"You don't get cold," his father retorted, blinking his eyes lazily. "That's why you're an Icer."

"Oh, yeah."

Tensions were mounting. The lack of food and the scarcity of water had put both members of the Icer royal family on edge. Not to mention that the removal of a limb each meant that their remaining body parts had to perform harder due to their absence. The back and forth conversation between the changeling overlords reflected that.

"Wait a minute," Koola remembered, "didn't you kill someone before?"

"Yeah," Cold replied before yawning impolitely. "So?"

The changeling prince rummaged through his satchel with renewed vigor. "I totally forgot. I raided his bag before we took off." In his hands he retrieved a small amount of bread; nothing that would sustain them for the rest of the competition, but enough for one decent meal.

Cold greedily snatched the food from his son's hands and stuffed it into his face, Koola doing likewise.

"So you've taken to graverobbing?" Cold said, muffled by the trace amounts of bread in his mouth.

Koola gulped hard, sending the food down his trachea and to his stomach. "So what? It's food. It's not like he can use it. It's like taking a ladder from a paraplegic."

With strengthened zeal, the emperor got to his feet and slipped the bag over his shoulder. Gripping his shock rifle, he waited for his son to gain his footing again with the aid of the shotgun. "I guess we all have to do less than royal acts in this competition."

Koola was antsy. "Yep. Now let's get moving!"