Amelia doesn't sleep much; she'll close her eyes and lightly doze off before the twitch of her leg startles her awake.
Often restless, she's up and moving before dawn breaks. Most days, she likes to pace the cabin's porch and watch the sun slowly peak out behind the trees, enjoying the variety of reds and oranges that paint the morning sky.
But today, Amelia's routine is thrown off balance by the presence of the small girl she found.
Everytime she catches a glimpse of the child, she's struck with an irrational amount of irritation. Having another person around her, living with her makes her itch; her body becomes tense and twitchy.
She fully regrets taking the child.
She feels cornered in her cabin, like a caged animal. Everything suddenly becomes too much too fast — the child's whimpering in her sleep and Amelia can see her start to stir awake.
She's on edge, and she'll end up doing something she regrets if she doesn't leave soon — so she does.
Amelia packs her knives and heads deep into the woods — where she can regain a sense of control.
—
When Amelia arrives back at the cabin, the sun's starting to set.
She's wearing sweat and gore like a second skin. Mud is caked along her hair and forearms, but she's got food slung over her shoulder — three squirrels, two cottontail and a large black rat snake.
Her eyes flicker to where she left the girl, only to see her gone. She has half the mind to go out and look for her but quickly decided against it. Not my kid, not my problem.
Moving into the kitchen, Amelia starts preparing everything she needs to skin and cook her food. While she's cleaning her dirty hand with a rag, she hears movement coming from one of the cupboards.
She can feel her eye twitch in annoyance. "Better come out." The creak of the cabinet's hinges is her only answer.
She's halfway through skinning her last animal when she hears the child pad into the threshold of the kitchen. From the corner of her eye, she can see the child fidgeting — wringing her hands and shuffling her feet.
Amelia ignores her, giving her attention to the dead animal in her hand. It's something in the weight of her knife and the carcass on her hands that brings her comfort; she's placid as long as her hands and mind are working.
"I-I thought you left."
But the child's trembling voice breaks her peace, a grating sound to her ears.
Amelia's eyes flicker to the girl before going back to the snake in her hand, "Why would I leave? This is my cabin." Her hands never stop working, even as she notices the child tense at her words.
The child moves to speak, but Amelia's already rising from her seat and walking past her carrying her carcasses.
—
They're both sitting around the fire pit.
Amelia's got her back to the cabin. She's scanning the woods lining the property, straining her ears for any sound of movement. The bites to her meal are sparse and timed, limiting any distractions.
She enjoys the silence the night brings. The nerves that stood tense start to settle at the quiet hum that takes over the woods — a cavity of black that she welcomes.
But everything comes to a screeching halt as she hears the girl.
"Um…when will you take me back to the highway?" Amelia turns to stare at the girl, watching as her eyes nervously flicker away from hers.
She can't help but sigh as she feels her body tense. "After tomorrow."
"Why?" The question makes Amelia twitch; she hates being questioned.
"I need more meat," she gestures towards the smoking meat on the fire pit, "and it'll be a long trip so you'll need rest."
And, the child seems like she wants to speak again, argue against her plan, and it puts her on edge. She's already planning on leaving the cabin, taking her to the highway and then helping her find her people — what more does the kid want?
"Look girl," she sighs, rubbing between her eyes, "just tell me about your group. I don't need to go walking around blind."
That seems to grab the child's attention.
The opportunity allows Amelia to gain important intel about the girl's group. And, with every piece of information that falls from the child's mouth, her mind works on strategies that would allow her the best chance of survival.
As the child rambles on, Amelia is able to come up to nine different people — all varying in levels of danger. So far, she's comfortable in her ability to take out about half the girl's group if needed — however her body remains tense at the aspect of being near so many people.
She lets the girl talk herself to sleep.
Carrying the girl is a nuisance to Amelia — her muscles tensing whenever her skin touches the child. Once the girl is settled back into the makeshift bed in the cabinet. Amelia leaves to put out the fire, thorough in removing any trace of her being there. Before heading inside to attempt to get some rest.