as the yellowjackets’ resident hunter, it was nat’s job to lay out traps and to hunt for animals out in the middle of fuck-knows-where. her job was important, actually, so everyone could at least have a chance at survival.

she felt no remorse when killing deer or rabbits, nature runs its course— right?

how was nat supposed to feel, now that she’s trapped some sort of hybrid cat x human in her makeshift netting?

“jesus fucking christ,” nat mutters hoarsely, rifle dropping to her side, “the fuck is this?”

she crouches down cautiously, staring at the half human cat (girl?) tangled up in wires and fabric pulled taught to capture any other unsuspecting animal, like a rabbit or a fox.

not a.. this.

you don’t seem too hurt. instead, your human limbs are twisted and pinched within the trap, and your fluffy little tail is swaying back and forth behind you. your ears are equally as fluffy, nat notices, but they’re twitching in distress.

nat doesn’t know how to feel. what kind of fantasy forest did their plane crash in, exactly? she’d never even heard of catgirls existing, especially ones that look as human as nat does but with a few additional features that— frankly, nat finds really fucking weird.

tentatively, her hand reaches out to pat the top of your head like a human would to a frightened kitten, but instead of fur she’s petting soft, knotted strands of hair on the top of your head. the movement seems to startle you, but nat drops the rifle on the ground behind her to observe you more closely.

“huh,” she scoffs quietly to herself, “i must be hallucinating. isn’t that right, kitty? dumb fucking cat. stupid fucking forest.”