(OCxCanon! Also depiction of injury)

  "Tacooooooo," Microwave whines, throwing back her head, "why'd you bring me out here? I wanna be inside."

  Taco turns to face Microwave, an incredulous look on her face. "Because being outside is fun? It's sunny out, and you just wanna stay inside?"

  "It's so hot out here! Air conditioning is so much better."

  Taco pushes her way through the underbrush. "We're in a forest, it's cool enough."

  Microwave, at Taco's heel, resists the urge to jump when the plants brush against her. She rubs her arms. "Also there are bugs out here? What about things like poison ivy?"

  "I don't," Taco puts her thumb and forefinger to her chin, "think poison ivy grows around here. Come on, where's your adventure spirit?" she raises her eyebrows.

  "Back home," Microwave mutters. Taco snickers.

  "Lighten up! Can't I take you out on a fun date?"

  Microwave's idea of fun is cuddling together and watching a movie, or having pillow fights in the dark. Fun is lying in bed, browsing the Internet and laughing at funny cat videos. "I think our ideas of fun are very different."

  "Sure, but you gotta be at least a little active. Who knows what you can find outside?"

  "Mosquitoes and too-hot weather?" Microwave snorts, "no thanks."

  Taco falls in step beside Microwave. "But you can get some sun, exercise," she nudges Microwave, "c'mon, give it a chance."

  "Fine, fine," Microwave waves Taco off, "but I'm totally staying home tomorrow."

  "Really? I was planning on bringing you to hang out with my friends, but- woah!" Taco stumbles and rolls down a slope and Microwave yelps, fists clenched and eyes wide. Coming to a stop near a tree, Taco groans.

  "I'm okay!" she calls out, and tries to roll over on her back. Pain shoots up her leg and she hisses, wrenching her eyes shut. Microwave picks her way down the slope, tense and anxious. Her heart stops each time she makes a little slip.

  "Wait! I'm coming, Taco!"

  She makes a small jump to the forest floor and jogs to Taco, her heart pounding. Taco's bleeding leg catches her eye. "Your leg! Oh my gosh, i-is it broken?"

  Taco wobbles, trying to stabilize herself on her elbows, and looks down at her limp leg. "I...I don't think so. But it might be twisted or something." She barely moves her leg up before having to drop it. "Hss-! Ow."

  "We gotta get you back to contestant grounds! Sit on my head! I'll take you back."

  Taco doesn't feel the need to suggest leaning on Microwave and walking back. Microwave's idea is faster, anyway. She struggles into a sitting position, biting her lip as her leg stings with each movement. Microwave grasps Taco's sides and lifts her, placing Taco on her head with the care of a mother putting her child to sleep.

  And she runs. She isn't the most athletic person, but following the trail of trampled grass and with her iron will, she makes it back to contestant grounds. It's only after she sets Taco down on a bench that she registers her legs are burning and stinging, almost ready to give out. She's heaving and her hands are shaking.

  "O...Okay wait," she breathes deeply, trying to control her heartbeat, "let me get a towel from the bathrooms."

  "Don't push yourself," Taco calls out after her. She taps her fingers on the bench and cringes when she looks at her leg. The deep red blood, freshly dried, surrounds the wound and runs down to her swollen ankle. Specks of dirt litter her leg from lying on the forest floor. She brushes some of the dirt off her shell. 

  Microwave runs out of the bathrooms with a few damp paper towels and makes a beeline for Taco.

  "Okay, this is gonna sting, so...sorry."

  "Yeah, I know. It's okay."

  Microwave goes over the non-injured area first, wiping the blood from the bottom up, and around the cut. Taco flinches as Microwave goes ever-so-carefully over the wound, biting her lip while Microwave mutters 'sorry' over and over.

  "We need to get you to a doctor or something," Microwave eyes Taco's swollen ankle as she throws away the paper towels. "Are there even any doctors around here?"

  "I don't think so. Oh!" Taco snaps her fingers, "we can just do kill-recover! Always works."

  Microwave jolts. "What!? Um, no? That's not-"

  "Why not?" Taco shrugs, "it's quicker than waiting a few months for this to heal."

  "But I don't want you to, you know, die!"

  "O-kay, we'll do it your way," Taco groans. Microwave hoists Taco onto her head again.

  "I'll ask around first. I literally do not know any doctors."

  "Fair enough." Taco suddenly smiles and pats Microwave's head. "Onward, my steed!"

  "Oh, you are hilarious," Microwave rolls her eyes. Taco cracks up and she does too.