ukan | IC CONTACT

Good.

--ow far out?

10-20?

The lab.

[But he has better directions now: a sense of how many miles east from what landmark, what portion of the river.]

-ny of that familiar?

River.

Do y- -xtant?

Sextant.

...What?

Fuc - ell me where - asshole.

I just did --is --cking worse than Verizon-

[It takes what feels like a full half hour to lay out what he can only fucking hope are useful directions, then repeat them. Then repeat them. Then again, to be sure every damn word has a chance of being heard.]

Copy?

10-1.

[Because everyone is having communication problems, but Alec stops to pinch the bridge of his nose.]

Can't d - -ngitude but - rth star. Sextant.

[Do you know what Lark has never, ever had to use? Navigation tools. Not even GPS. He's got a nose for that. So he just holds the talk button and groans.

He knows the bare bones basics. But fuck this shit. Please hold.]

-ld you.

[Alec, who has this knowledge, and tries to pass as much on to Lark as he can, until they both lose patience. But admittedly, yes, he'd slacked on this one.

Stupid wolf husbands.

He taps the talk button a few times while he waits, but doesn't try to say anything else.]

[He's lucky that this wolf husband is smart and highly motivated.

Two hours go by and then he responds. He sounds calmer, the way he does when he's been hacking away at a new problem and is reasonably sure he has a solution.

He gives Alec what information he finally has from measuring the horizon, the stars, and repeats it. Over and over again.]

Now hur -- uck up.

[Alec has had to move camp since then, but they're moving slowly still and he has time to let Ulla get some distance on them. He checks his own measurements, then sighs.

Hurry the fuck up indeed.]

Lark, tha - wo days. More l - ee, rate we're g -

We have a- east a week. More if -- broken again.

I'll b - ine.

[They don't have a code for what he wants to say, but neither will he say it plainly.

So, Spanish.]

-rried about co -

About what?

Cold.

Cold.

No clot-

Have some here.

[Not much. But it'll be better than whatever Alec has now.]

Better ETA?

Depends on her.

[Alec, even without his abilities, can make better time over most terrain than most humans.

But back to English.]

Two d - ree?

[He's grown so used to Alec's abilities. Two days would have been perhaps twelve hours back home.]

- hold the fort here, th-

[Alec, too, it must be said. He's ignoring the feeling that being this unbearably slow will get him killed.]

-ouble?

What? Trouble?

Yes. Y - ny troub -

[He can only fill in the blanks and hope he's got it right.]

No. -ll good here. Quiet.

Good.

Clear.

[Alec isn't so sure about how quiet it will stay, or how well he and Ulla will fare in it either way, but he means to make the most of it.

He checks in periodically as they go but it does, indeed, take them the three days and some change. He also doesn't bother trying to have much of a conversation over the walkies given the crappy reception and how there's no way to tell if they're secure or not - and he expects the same of Lark.

He's shivering fairly constantly by the time they make camp although he ignores it; he's hungry but not bad off, sore but whole. The impending hypothermia is the worst of it, due entirely to the fact that what he walks into sight of the camp wearing is his boots, a thin pair of boxers, and his leather jacket over his bare chest. Ulla has the rest of his clothes, including his cargo pants cut open flat and layered with hastily sewn moss and boughs for insulation.]

Lark becomes aware of him within a few minutes. He comes out to meet him, not running, looking exhausted. The relief shows through, but only just. He has a canteen of water that he hands over.

"Are you injured?"

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