So are we still trying? / Or simply surviving? (magica x scrooge x poe)

[lifesa_witch]

 Their clothes still smelled like ash. Both children had wanted to bathe - if they understood what irony was, they would have noted on how they used to hate taking them before - to great rid of it, but Poe insisted they had to keep moving. Even though their feet ached and their stomachs growled and they were cold, they had to keep moving. Who knew when the Bad People would catch up to them? It had been days (they assumed) but they couldn't be sure.

But when Magica whined she really needed to stop, Poe finally relented. But only for a little while.

Magica sat under a tree, hugging her knees, while Poe kept watch. He was convinced, any second now, some hideous thing would pop out and try to eat them whole. Well, let them try. He'd protect his sister. His magic wasn't strong, but it was something. He'd die before he let his last living family come to harm.

Magica rubbed her eyes. When was the last time she slept? She couldn't be sure. And she was so hungry. How long would they have to live like this?