“I know what I’m doing.” Nat said in a low voice as she pulled her shirt on, the room lit by the early morning sun in the window.

She and Lottie were having a competition for who could provide food first in the dead of winter; the hunter with the gun or the crazy girl who thinks the woods are speaking to her.

You were completely unimpressed, expecting her to be mature enough not to entertain this. But she was on board, wanting to prove her point.