A young lady stands in her den, it just so happen that today, what ever day it is, is what ever day is it. She can't remember most things, such as the date or time besides day and night. Her name is Nepeta, or, that's what she thinks it is, anyway. A horrible memory is a horrible memory, can't do much with it.
Her den is two rocks, terraformed to look like a smaller version of a mountain she saw as a child, at her old home. Covered in moss, it is filled with an abundant amount of skinned animals she hunted down with what ever tools she built from the wilderness around her. She lives here, in the wild. Young Nepeta, her self, is a light skinned, well fared child of so and so years, she lost count after thirteen... Covered in the last remaining clothes she had brought with her from her last home and skins of the hunt, she looked not a day older than fifteen. Having her mother's bright red hair and unnatural amount of freckles, it only added to her childish looks that she had fat cheeks full of success and bright, green eyes.
It would be day soon, the sun had just risen when she awoke from her pile of skins, and she would be able to go out and play once she had cleaned up her mess from the night before's celebration of her hunt. God, the blood is everywhere this time, all over the walls and other piles... Though, it did remind her of some great stories just looking at the scribbled images on the walls.
After a rather bothersome cleaning up, involving having to carry sown skins filled with water from a stream near by, she got up from her knees and stepped back a few steps to admire her handy work. Ah yes, fresh redrawings of her old stories, painting in the remaining blood from last night's hunt. She dusted off her feet and hands, grabbed the horribly maintained olive green gloves she had kept from a few houses back on the way out of the clearing near her den. She began the steady up-climb from her lovely little home and was on her way to finding the best place to hunt she could think of around this time. Much warmer sessions were coming, meaning easier prey would be near the camping sights.
A quite handsome and well-built man sat in a bus seat. Today, the 5th of June, was the day he would be taken on a End-of-the-year field trip with his class mates. The place was a camp site far off into the forest near his home town, Panett. A place he went to every year, which, at this point, had gotten overly boring. It had stereotypical camp activities such making a fire that would surly set off his asthma, walking around the interesting sites to see, and the ever popular act of sitting around, on a god damn log, doing nothing. Today would surly be a long day, the man we have yet to define with a name was 100% sure about this fact.
The young gentleman's name was Equius Zahhak, a Hispanic man of age 16. A well built, leader in the making, he was always courteous and well mannered, but generally creepy man for his age. Always having unusually well kept clothes and hair for his status, he gave off the vibe of emptiness and festering feelings to anyone below and even above him in status who usually didn't bother to give him the time of day.
Looking outside the dirty bus window, he sat in his thought, somewhat admiring the woods that were flashing before his eyes. He was brought back from this though by the person sitting to him, who, by this point, he had toned out. A lady with the messiest hair he had ever seen was trying to get his opinion on some matter, poking him slightly with her pointy, iron elbow to get his attention so as not to disrupt her conversation with the boy across the aisle. The young lady was Vriska Serket, a childhood friend who wasn't all that great of a friend, to be honest. She was, just like him, wearing the regular school uniform of maroon and black, but her clothes were all the more torn up and designed to her own tastes and her usual iron prosthetic arm, which she lost in a childhood accident. Her bossy, know-it-all attitude is what set her away from everybody else, she was like no-body else, and she knew it, and loved with a passion. Always having to exaggerate what she was trying to get across, she needed back up on the subject of who was the coolest in their class with her sorta friend, Tavros Nitram.
Tavros Nitram was a handicapped child, from the waist down he was paralyzed by a childhood accident. A usually shy and easily scared person, he always seemed to want to follow rules when given by anyone, but occasionally had fits of courage that made him quite the impressive man. Being a generally nice guy, he had a lot of friends compared to his sorta friend, Vriska.
Equius didn't bother to acknowledge Vriska, but she continue to poke him. Her voice was beginning to waver, she was beginning to run out of options if her some-what friend didn't help her in the heated argument.
"Equius... Equius!" Vriska turned around, leaving Tavros to sit in questioning, and began to slap Equius' arm with her prosthetic arm. Her voice got more 'gentle' as she asked her slight friend, "Hey-y-y, buddy! Help me tell Tavros over there about how I'm the most popular person in the school!"
Equius rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses, and moved forward so as to better address Tavros. "Tavros, in my opinion, you are not the most popular kid in the school, but I do have to say in the class you would be." Vriska was brightened, then flattened by what Equius was saying to Tavros, implying she was not the most popular in any aspect. "The most popular person in the school would have to follow an assortment of possibilities for populousness. And since I have a limited amount of information on all the kids in the school, I have no say on the matter." Equius finished, leaving Tavros to bask in his class popularity, and Vriska to soak in her defeat for a title. She usually got all the titles in school, with all the trophies to match. Even if this title held no actual reward, she was disappointed with her self.
Sitting back into his seat, he continued his glare at the forest when the bus began to slow down. It seemed the class had made it to its destination.
All of the kids left the bus, soon filing out to explore the surrounding areas. Vriska quickly got off, so as to meet up with all of her sorta friends near the handicapped doorway on the bus. Meeting up with Tavros and Terezi, she continued her conversation on who is the most popular with the group. Equius got off shortly after the majority of the class had gotten off, making note that Tavros was using Equius' opinion to further prove his point, he must have gotten into one of his boosts of courage... A flash of colors pasted Equius. A girl near his age was running around the camp ground, with the teachers Mr Slick and Ms Paint following behind her, trying to catch her. She caught Equius' eye behind his sunglasses, and she stopped mid-run, Mr Slick tried to stop but was knocked over by the heavy built Ms Paint, who was also right trying to stop right behind him. The girl hesitated, but continued forward, closer to the man she had just pasted. Sitting down like a dog before Equius, she made an imitation of a purr before speaking.
"How is it going, mistah?" She said, a strong french accent messing her up on most of the words.
Equius hesitated, but stood tall again, "I-I'm fine, thank you for asking..."
The girl stood up from her dog-ish position, and cleaned off the dirt from her ragged clothes. She looked behind her self, and saw Ms Paint and Mr Slick jogging to catch up with her again, she quickly said to Equius, "I hafe to go naow, mistah, but hafe a good day!" She trotted off, returning to the woods from where she came from, but momentarily came back and picked up a pile of rats and mice underneath a picnic table before scampering off again.