For a while, she just waited and worried, pacing around the shallow, overcrowded grave, flinching at the slightest sound in the trees, thinking it might be Edward, or the cold-blooded sandwich thief, or yet another intruder. But it was always nothing. She wondered how far away the witness would get, how far Edward would have to follow him, whether he'd come back safe … Whether someone else would wander by and see this scene, with her standing over it. She didn't like looking at the hunter's remains, sitting there so conspicuously. However long Edward took, it wasn't good for this blatant evidence to just sit out in the open like this…
She glanced down at the spare saw, still left there in the kit, and a terrible thought occurred to her. She could take care of it on Ed's behalf … No. She shuddered at the darkly practical places her mind was going, not liking how easily she was forming these conclusions. But someone had to do it, didn't they? And there was no telling what state of exhaustion Edward might be in when he returned. Hadn't she wanted to help? To be able to handle whatever happened? And to know that she didn't always just mess things up? But … Edward was probably right, though. This wasn't something she was equipped to deal with. She'd end up being sick, most likely … And yet … hadn't she wondered how Edward could work around dead bodies like that? How anyone ever got used to that, and whether she could possibly …
She knew she didn't like sitting around here doing nothing, that much was certain. Finally, with shaking hands, she reached down and picked up the saw. There was only one way to find out.