(Insert a scene of Mayla, and the Raywood wolf pack)


Harriette woke up feeling a little better, but still felt terrible. She was too wobbly to try and scrounge up breakfast so she opened one of her granola bars and munched on that, while drinking a whole bottle of water. She hadn't really meant to, it's just once she'd started she couldn't make herself stop. She'd have to fill it up again. She decided to keep on her sick clothes since she was still way too cold, adjusting her baby blanket to be more like a scarf. Then headed up. When she was in the warehouse one of the staff bots, Harriette thought she'd heard the others call her Chicken. Chicken took her hand and tugged her to a weird off shoot spot in one of the paths, then Chicken pulled out a pair of gloves and handed them to her. Harriette blinked.

"I can't, I don't want to get you-" Chicken stopped her from being able to talk by putting her finger to her mouth and making something like a shushing noise. She patted Harriette's head and then left. Harriette decided that beggars can't be choosers and she slipped them onto her hand. They were comfy and started warming her hands pretty quickly. Feeling a little more heartened she headed up to see if any of those bags were around. Maybe she shouldn't have spent so much of the day in the fountains when she was coming home to such a cold place. Still the gloves were nice and she might need the money in the future.

She found two of the four bags, she wondered if the other two, being in where they'd been had been taken back to lost and found or if the owners had come back for them. Still, Harriette had two bags to look through, she'd hidden one and gone back for the other rather than look through them one at a time. She didn't want to risk losing another valuable resource.

She found kids tylenol in the second bag! She took out her last water bottle and took some of the medicine. She was glad she hadn't left it to chance, even if it had been a slim chance. She looked through the rest of the contents. One was a woman's purse, she felt a little bad that some lady had lost it, and in such a weird spot too, still she didn't find much use in it. There was a wallet, but it only had credit cards, there was a pair of fancy lady cloves that wouldn't fit Harriette at all, but still looked nice, maybe Chicken would like them. There was some lipstick, and a few dimes in a tiny pocket. Harriette pocketed the dimes, lipstick and gloves. She'd put the purse in a more obvious spot, maybe next to the lost and found, or she could sneak in it and put it there.

The other bag was a tiny duffle like most Harriette had found. She'd stopped looking through it when she'd seen the tylenol on top. That had been a great enough find on it's own, even if there was only a little bit in there. She shifted through the things, there was a mens coat on top. Harriette almost burst out laughing at that. She wasn't sure why. Because the bag was so tiny, maybe? Still Harriette struggled to pull it free. It was big enough to be a blanket So Harriette decided to keep it. It had been there for a long time, long enough for a tiny layer of dust. Harriette rechecked the tylenol bottle three times before taking some to be safe. She threw the coat over her shoulders and shuffled through the rest of the contents. A pen, a few dollars and some change, several receipts, and a… What was that? Harriette pulled the squarish, roundish, long thing out and turned it over, it was some sort of tool, she realized after looking it over. Or maybe it was supposed to be multiple. She pulled out one of the tools, a knife, a file, a weird hooked thing. Harriette put them back in. That could be useful. When she picked up the back she noted that it was too heavy to not still have something in it. So she rooted around the receipts. Finally giving up and carefully, in case whatever it was fragile, emptied it out on the ground. There was another pen, some more coins and one of those really fancy lighters. Harriette wasn't sure it even had oil in it. They needed oil to even light up. She opened it to check and sure enough it did still have some oil. She closed the flip lid and pocked that. She wasn't sure what she'd need for a lighter indoors, but if she got kicked out and had to sleep outside she might want to have it on hand. She stood dusting herself off. When she closed the coat around herself she felt a sudden sense of- of- familiar? She wondered if her birth father ever put his coat on her. She pretended he had. That she was just with her dad and mum and she was- safe?- loved? -Wanted? She scrubbed her face. She didn't need that. She was fine on her own. She was better on her own. She kicked the man's bag. Then she kicked the woman's purse. Like they were proxies to all the- all the pain she was suddenly filled with. She wanted to go home!

Where was home? The dump with it's piles of trash, and darkness and bad smelling water? The cupboard under the stairs where she was hurt and locked up and lonely? The streets? The supermarket? The Pizzaplez? The daycare? Where was home? She didn't have one! She didn't deserve one. Freaks don't have homes. They don't have families. They don't have mummies and daddies to tuck them in or take care of them when they're sick. They're better off alone, alone nobody hurts them. Nobody abandons her. Nobody….

Harriette scrubbed her face over and over and over. Tears, her face was just covered in tears. She sobbed, tried to sniffle. She was still too stuffed up. She decided to go back to bed.