God. This weather's absolutely terrible, Honor thought, pulling her jacket closer around her, shoving her hands into her pockets. All she owned was in the bag slung over her shoulders, not much more than a jar of peanut butter, a spare change of clothes, some food, and a sharp knife, which she used to ward off others. Most of the time, if you had anything that flashed like metal, then it would generally scare people away. Normally it meant you had a knife or gun, both of which were considered weapons of mass destruction in most circles. Course, with all the weirdness happening recently, like that boy she had seen the other day who created a flame upon his fingertips, Honor guessed that wouldn't be much of a problem anymore. Tying her wet, dark hair behind her head with a ribbon, she looked out at the barren horizon for any sign of any sort of shelter. She knew that if she stayed out in the cold for very much longer, she'd probably end up losing toes or a finger, something she wasn't keen on doing, especially if she had to amputate alone. There! Towards the west, she could see a dark formation above the lighter gray of the landscape. Running towards it, Honor soon saw it clearer. It was a plane of some sort! That was good; sometimes, the planes that had crashed so many years ago still had a bit of food in them somewhere. Most of the time, it wasn't good anymore, but if it was in a can... The plane was too small to be a passenger plane, like the one Honor had seen a couple years ago, where a group of people had been living in, but it was of decent size. Getting closer to it, she found the cabin door off its hinges and lying next to the plane. The wings were both ripped off, one nearby, the other looking like it must have been taken somewhere else. Stepping inside the cabin, she found it mostly intact and dry. Thank God, she thought, letting herself smile for a moment. Setting down her now-drenched bag, she sits down on the ground against the far wall of the cabin, in the darkest, and driest, corner of the plane, getting to work on wringing out her hair, hating how it felt wet against her neck. Character Sheet: Name: Honor (no last name, she doesn't remember it) Age: 17 (though she'll say she's 18) Appearance: Black hair, grey eyes. She has a slim body, lithe and quick. She normally wears dark clothes, simply because they are easier to take care of, it's easier to camouflage in, and they're all she has.