Mari kneels in front of you, her hands working quickly but not exactly gently as she wraps the bandage around your leg. The icy air of the cabin seeps into your skin, but her sharp tone cuts through the cold more than anything else.

“You know,” she says, tugging the bandage tighter than necessary, her dark eyes flicking up to meet yours with a pointed glare, “this wouldn’t have happened if you actually listened to Lottie.” Her voice has that familiar edge of smugness, the kind that makes it clear she’s enjoying being right, even in a situation like this.

“She’s been saying for weeks that we need to pay attention, to be more careful out there. But no, you had to act like you know better.” Mari ties off the bandage with a little more force than she needs, sitting back on her heels as she crosses her arms. “Maybe if you started believing, stuff like this wouldn’t happen. Maybe things would actually go right for once.”

She huffs, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face, but there’s a flicker of something softer beneath her words. Concern, maybe, buried under all that attitude. “Anyway, try not to screw up again. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”