"Oh shut up."
I hid my grin beneath my balaclava. Who needed skiing when you could jump out of helicopters and whizz down the mountain at full tilt until you crashed? Adrenaline junkie? Me? Noooooo.
Cathy stood and looked around, "Err ... I don't think we came off in the right place."
"What makes you say that? Looks just like anywhere else to me."
"I know it does, that's the problem. Did we come east or west from the peak?"
East or west? I'd hardly known which was was up or down. "Let's just walk until we find a path. We can't be too far from base."
We walked for hours, until the sun was nothing but an inelegant smear behind the great black peaks of the mountains. Eventually, we gave up.
"Fan-bloody-tastic," Cathy muttered. "Good thing I took that survival course. Go and get the wood and some loose brush for a shelter. Damn, I'm thirsty."
I stalked off into the trees in a huff. Little miss Smarty-Pants I-Went-On-A-Survival-Course-So-You're-An-Idiot. She could stick her stupid Diploma in Survival Skills right up her self-righteous -
I ran back into the camp at full pelt. Cathy was on her back spitting and foaming at the mouth. I snorted,
"Some survival course you went on! Don't you remember that little rule?"
She vomited. I fell over backwards in the snow and laughed until my chest hurt. Of all the stupid things she could forget, she had to choose that one.
Don't eat yellow snow.