They hiked through the snow and underbrush so thick that it was oftentimes easier to walk on, instead of walking through.

Sidepiece reached out for D.J.’s arm, gripping the forearm, ducked under a branch, and then stepped down to lower ground.

Thirty feet away, he was using a stick to prop himself up. He only had the one hand, but he could lean heavily on the stick for added balance. He spared her a glance, withdrew his arm, rotated the forearm, and then flung it out instead of teleporting it.

The hand gripped a branch, and the forearm stuck out at a convenient height and angle for her to grip.

“Masks or no?” D.J. asked.

“Sure. Can’t hurt.”

“We’re going to be near people.”

“We’ll be lurking in the trees like creeps. We might as well wear masks.”

“Uh huh.”

She put on her mask, a new one that had been provided by Love Lost. It was in the shape of a skull, but limited to a cut that only covered the middle third of her face. The mask attached with glue and stayed stuck where it was. A mouth portion covered the portion of her face between lips and chin. The teeth of the mask were modified, as were the shapes of the eye sockets, but it worked.

Damsel had fucked up and bailed when it mattered, but she’d had other things on point. Sidepiece had a compact filled with black grease paint. With her thumbs, she applied it to upper and lower lids, with a little curl up at the edges, like exaggerated eyelashes. Nothing so delicate as Damsel had been, but Sidepiece didn’t consider herself delicate.

D.J. had a similar mask, but it was limited to the lower half of his face, broken into two parts, which he exaggerated by breaking his head into two parts, the upper half suspended over the lower. He had his own greasepaint, white to contrast with his black skin. He used his one hand to draw horizontal lines and highlight other gaps he created with his power.

She gave him a thumbs up, smiling.

The lights of civilization glowed beyond the trees, but the footing didn’t get any easier to manage. The divide between pain-in-the-taint nature and snow-covered concrete was a harsh one, with bushes and piled-up branches standing high enough that she could stand three feet above solid ground with parking lot two paces in front of her.

D.J.’s hand once again provided a hand-hold as she navigated the wood underfoot. She settled in, leaning against a tree, and tapped on his wrist with one finger. “Let go for me.”

He let go. She retained her grip on his arm, cradling his arm in hers.

“I want you to know you’re a proper fucking gentleman, ’Joint. It warms a lady’s heart.”