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Nea bit back a shuddering groan as a chill ran through her body. Why did the Entity enjoy fucking with her specifically? If she wore too much, she'd end up burning half to death in the hottest board the Entity could conjure up. If she wore too little, like she was today, she'd be wading through snow and ice.
"Fan i helvete," she hissed under her breath, fingers stiff and uncooperative as she fumbled with the wires on this goddamn generator. She could have faced the killer, she supposed, let the extra exercise warm her bones — but she worked better slinking unseen through the games. Best to let Meg take the distractions, no matter how cold it was.
She tried to connect a couple of wires, twisting them around one another, and cursed as her fingers slipped, setting off a loud explosion that honestly, Nea would be glad for if not for the knowledge that if their killer heard the sound he would be no doubt heading this way.
Sure enough, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, her heart thudding violently in her chest in signal as the killer drew close. Nea abandoned her work quickly, staying low as she scarpered for cover in the nearby mines, hoping the tunnels would shelter her a little from this wind while she waited for him to give up.
God, but it was cold. Crouched in the nook of a rough stone wall she tried not to let her bare midriff touch the frozen rock as she huddled in on herself, trembling violently. Now she wasn't focused on anything besides her own body she could truly feel the cold in her body — the way her skin prickled and tightened, her fingertips burned and her toes were completely numb in her boots. It was a wonder she hadn't collapsed by now, or at least tripped over her own feet with how clumsy they felt.
This wasn't good. Even as the thrumming in her ears faded, Nea was stuck. Her chest felt tight, every breath a labour as though the air in her lungs was frozen, and her body was trembling so violently she wasn't sure she could move if she tried. She sunk to the ground, the cold rock beneath making little difference to the bone-deep chill that already saturated her every breath, and as the exit gate siren blared she realised with a shock of despair that she was going to die here.
"Nea? Sweet, you okay?"
Meg. Footsteps nearby, hushed voices and then a long coat was draped over her shoulders. Strong arms she wanted to disappear in picked her up and made sure the coat was on her properly, fastening it closed. Through bleary, confused eyes she could see Meg holding her, keeping her moving, and the owner of the coat — Mikaela. Meg's hand were tight on numb arms, the heat of her body such a stark contrast it almost burned. Mikaela watched their flank, and Nea clung tightly to the fabric around her: barely enough to stave off the shivers, but it smelled like incense and hope.
Right now that was all she could wish for.