JOURNIES

Sam startled when he saw Marley in her fur outfit. She reminded him of someone from a savage land comic, but as cool as that thought was, he was reminded of who generally wore fur to keep warm while scavenging through the woods… wolves. "Relax. She isn't a wolf," Kurt told him.

"I AM a wolf. I'm sure that at this point, every living person has to be… but I'm a wolf who hunts wolves. You know how that is," she told Sam. He simply nodded, with a confused face. No, he didn't, but… something was off about her and he didn't want to argue. He just wanted to keep an eye on her.

"Marley, enough talk," Kurt said and took the items that she brought into the dungeon with her off of her hands.

"You'll survive better with me there," she told Kurt.

"Isabelle wants you here," he told her.

"She risks too much sending you with such precious cargo, alone," Marley said, softly. Sam tilted his head. Precious cargo? She gave Sam a look and he bashfully turned away from her weird stare.

"Well, she's in charge, here," Kurt said.

"We aren't a pack. There's no master. She can't tell me that I can't go and keep him and you safe," Marley said. "With that being said, this way," she said, leading them out of the caves.

"She's your um…?"

"She's a hunter. She sort of knows these woods probably better than any of the wolves. She made the trap that you fell into. She has them all over the place."

"She seems odd," Sam said.

"Well, she's been through a lot. We all have."

"My mother was ripped to pieces by wolves. She was virtually shreds by the time I tracked her down… but a few wolves died in the process and my new family was able to eat," she said. "And I reclaimed her necklace." She fiddled with the small article of jewelry on her neck. "That's that woods life. Your granny knows."

"How about we just not discuss that, Marley?" Kurt said, knowing exactly why Isabelle didn't want Marley with them. She talked too much. Her filter sometimes just didn't work and she didn't know what not to say, which with Red, they needed to say as little as possible.

"It's cool. I haven't seen my meemaw in years. I want to know what she's like, now," he said.

"No. It's not our place to have some kind of heart to heart with you about the woman you knew and the woman we know, now. Marley – not another word," Kurt warned.

"You ain't her packmaster," Sam said.

"That is true," Marley said. "But, I like Kurt. I choose to listen to him, even if he says it bossy like. I'll let that slide today, Kurt." She grabbed a torch and a bow and arrow on her way and kept going…

Sam followed the two unlikely folks and watched as Marley seemed to keep hearing things that nobody else seemed to. At least he didn't hear anything and if Kurt did, he wasn't reacting to anything. He was probably used to the woman. Sam cleared his throat and asked, "So, um…" But Marley put up a quick finger at him and held her hand there, to keep him silent as she pointed to her two eyes, then forward, creeping to some bushes to reveal something to them. Kurt peeked and tensed up.

"Intruding," Marley whispered, barely audible. "Execute?"

"Too many of them," Kurt told her, backing away. Sam looked at the wolves that they were watching and was confused. Intruding? They had territories, or something? There were only four that he could see, but maybe they had others with them and these two knew it. Marley pointed out a route and waved them along, Kurt moved first, then Sam followed and she closed up the rear, readying her weapon, just in case.

When they were clear, Marley nonchalantly asked, "What were you going to say?"

"No longer important… Look… how many packs are there around these parts?" He wondered, suddenly fearful for his grandmother. What if she wasn't okay? Hell, for all he knew, he was being led to his death and his meemaw had been long since dead. They seemed honest, but who was actually really honest?

"There are three worth speaking of. The one that you were running from, the one that we just saw, back there, and the one that ran us into hiding," Marley answered, with this distant look in her eyes… "Then, there's us. They know that we exist, but they don't know how to find us."

"So, you all really are a pack," Sam observed, suspiciously.

Kurt commented, "We are people trying to survive with what we have. All of these trees and plants here… none of them are edible. The few animals that are left die of starvation, themselves, frequently – because humans are eating what they used to be able to eat. Eating decayed flesh will kill you. Might as well not eat. The simplest thing to do is…" He couldn't finish the statement, "Maybe wherever you came from there were more options."

"Yeah, well, no. People have tried to make communities to grow plants and stuff. It's like a danger zone. You could literally die guarding these places," Sam said.

"You could literally die anywhere, at any time," Marley said with a confused grimace.

"Yeah…" Sam said, looking back at her with the same expression. "Um… the pack that I was running from – do you think that they're following us?"

"They aren't. They will have returned to their pack with their wounded and they'll hunt you today, as a pack." Marley seemed completely fine with that.

"There' s three of us…" Sam noted.

"They'll lunge if they catch us with us," she said, happily. "When a member is wounded, that takes down a hunter and possibly puts them in the position to have to eat them, if they can't get better. That's something that most pack masters frown upon."

"Jesse wouldn't care. More meat for him," Kurt said, bitterly.

"That's the one that sent us into hiding. Kurt's boyfriend bartered his way into the pack by killing kids that we knew…" Marley blurted. Sam's eyes widened.

"Marley." The tone that Kurt used actually silenced her. "Painful memories, okay?" He said, more calmly, and Sam saw that tears were trying to come into the young man's eyes.

"Sorry. I'm just trying to know what I've gotten myself into with coming here," Sam said.

"Deep shit," Kurt summed up the answer and Marley and he finally agreed on something as she nodded her head to cosign.

Quinn tied the straps of her fur sleeves on at her shoulders, frustrated as she looked at Tina and Santana trying to tend to Hank. He was not going to make it. They all knew it, even though nobody said it and it was her fault, even though nobody pointed it out. Finn came to check on her and wrapped his arms around her. "It wasn't your fault," he said.

She just threw him a look and said, "Nobody said that it was."

"Yeah, but I think I know my little Quinn." He kissed the side of her face and said, "We're gonna get that Red kid and he's gonna die slow and painfully."

Quinn bit her lip and rolled her eyes. "Hey called me Pinky… like we're friends, ro something. Stupid little fucker. He said something about going to his grandmother's.. does he think this is a fairy tale? That our life here is some majestic fantasy to try to fulfill?" Her eyes were damp and she grabbed her harness of knives. "I'm going to stab him in his ass!" She wiped a tear and stormed off. Finn sighed and chuckled. Poor Red.

Mercedes kept a watch on the old woman. She wasn't supposed to do so, but she allowed her to carve herself a makeshift leg. The woman worked on this most of her time, while trying to heal. If her mama knew that she had allowed the woman to have a knife, she would flip out and probably kill the lady. She gave it to Mercedes every night and Mercedes returned it to her in the mornings. She just wanted the woman to get back on her feet and for her and her mother to get out of there and find another place to rest.

She went into the basement to see her mother knocking on different areas. "What are you doing?" She asked, more annoyed than ever before with her mother.

"Trying to figure out her secret. There is no reason that a woman that I got the drop on so easily should have survived through this. She either has companions, who will eventually show up, or she has good weapons. Weapons, we can use. Companions? We'll need weapons to deal with."

"We'll need weapons, anyway. I thought that you were going to go to get the stuff that we stashed. You still haven't, yet. We need that stuff, Mama. This woman isn't going to help us after you lacked her leg off, for breakfast," Mercedes said. "I could go, if you want?"

"You wouldn't survive a damn day out there alone. I'll have to get it. But, if anyone comes calling before I get back, don't open the door. EVERYONE is lying to you. And if they manage to get inside," she tossed Mercedes the ax, which she caught. "You know how to swing. Pretend that they're wood to keep us warm in the forest." Her mother grabbed an ax of her own and a few other things that she had stolen from the granny before leaving. "Lock up behind me," she told her. Mercedes did so, a little bit frightened about her mom being alone, with wolves out there… but she had proven time and time again that she could make it. Now, the old woman, Mercedes hadn't thought about…

How did she make it without help? Mercedes went into the room and smiled softly when she saw the woman, carving vigorously, as always. "Hey, Gran," Mercedes said and asked, "You need anything?"

"A new leg," Granny commented. "I haven't been able to carve too well because the pain sends shocks through my body." She frowned, but didn't abort her mission.

Mercedes sighed and said, "Well, I don't have any new legs, but I do have tea, if you want some?"

"Where is your mother?" Granny asked, still carving.

"She's made a quick run," Mercedes said.

Finally, Granny stopped and looked up, "I'd actually love some tea," she said. "And, while I can, if I can simply have some fried green tomatoes…"

"I don't know how to make that," Mercedes said with a frown.

"The kitchen is full of recipes, dear. It'll be there, if it's not too much trouble. I would get up and fix it, myself, but…"

Mercedes waved a hand and nodded, "Of course. I'll find the recipe and make you some." As soon as she left the room, the old woman glanced around for something to use as a cane and she struggled to try to navigate. If she could make it into the basement, that was all that she needed. She grabbed the knife. The girl seemed innocent enough, but if she tried something, Granny would simply have to let her have it.

Mercedes had finally found the recipe and everything that she needed to make this stuff and the recipe, to her, seemed difficult. She hoped that Gran would like it... She hoped that she wouldn't burn down the damn cabin. She was about to start trying to make it when she heard a huge crash underfoot. "Shit!" She hissed and went rushing, first to Granny's room – where she no longer was and several items were knocked about, then she rushed to the basement and tried to open it. "It locks from this side, Cub," Granny said, hoarsely. The woman had fallen and honestly felt like she might die, but she was straining to crawl across the floor into the escape channel.

"Gran, are you hurt? Let me try to help you!" Mercedes urged.

"Help yourself. It's what everyone else in the world is going to do when you meet them. It's what I should have done when y'all came-a-knockin'. Now, we both know that under no circumstances should anybody try to help anybody, unless it helps themselves." Granny leaned against the wall as she struggled with opening the pathway. She would perish in the tunnels, but she wasn't going to wait around to be killed by that crazy wolf bitch, in her own home.

"Gran…"

"Hey, Cub… there's a photo on the mantle of my family. I won't ever see any of them again, but I want you to take a look at it. It'll show you what family's actually supposed to look like. Good luck with… her. Good luck, in general. You seem like a nice girl." Granny made it into the tunnel and fought to lock it up behind her. Mercedes called out to her, but she never replied as she began to try to struggle towards the underground, to her allies.