Anakin, despite not having lived on a desert in several decades--and having a wife who was from New England--was still a big baby very sensitive when it came to cold. And he'd learned that as long as you were warm, it didn't really matter how silly you looked.
Perhaps someone had just told him that based on the
headgear he was currently sporting,
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When you're finished, go over to the modified mouse droid, which will give you your your next clue.
Bring some of the fire with you when you leave.
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And, well. Her name was Firekeeper. Taking the flint and steel from the pouch around her neck, she got to work.
Blind Seer, of course, supervised the process.
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A pang in his chest reminded him how much he associated fire with Katniss now, but he ignored it as he went to collect his next clue.
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Annie was totally wrong. At one point when she was trying to get the fire going she even started talking to it, like that would help. And then she maybe started yelling at it.
Neither worked, and by the time she finished, she had a feeling she was way behind.
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It took a little bit of time, but with some luck -- in finding a patch of clear enough ice -- and some ingenuity -- in using a combination of heat from his hands and the edge of his GPS to shape the chunk -- he had an ice lens, and, shortly after, a flame.
Wishing for some pitch to make a better torch, he grabbed a longer piece of wood and made sure it was burning strongly before carrying it away and grabbing his clue.
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Anakin cut you a break by putting together a pile of rawhide strings, but you still had to sharpen the point of your weapon by beating one rock against another and get the stone to stay tied to the stick.
When you were finished, take your weapon and show it to the mouse droid, which will give you your next clue.
Take the weapon with you.
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She could have easily made the fire as well, but despite being used to the cold and snow in Northern Montana, she was usually able to be in coyote form there if she wanted, and getting to the weapon area was quicker.
She showed her weapon to the mouse droid and was on her way.
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Yeah, Sam went for the weapon. Don't you judge. Maybe she just wanted to beat on some rocks.
"Don't see why we can't make a club," she grumbled the third time she had to retry to lash her sharpened rock to her stick. "A club is totally fine as a weapon."
She got her spear together -- eventually -- go her clue, and set out on her merry -- or very grumpy, rather -- way.
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She had a horrible feeling she was going to have to stick it into something, though.
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So out there in the snow and window, running around in a t-shirt and jeans, was one Seifer Almasy, hunting for a stick and a rock.
Then he had to shape the rock.
By the fifth stone in, he was wishing he had taken the easy way.
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It was almost as if fashioning his own weapons was a hobby, really.
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