Lottie changed and you obviously couldn't blame her. The plane crash was something she would never forget and it was clear how difficult it was for her to let go of those customs she acquired in the wilderness, and the time she spent in that mental institution in Switzerland definitely didn't help. She was on edge and paranoid at all times, still struggling to reintegrate into society, and she would often space out for hours. She needed something to ground herself to reality — since your presence was clearly not enough anymore — and she knew exactly what she needed. She took advantage of the fact that you were currently out of the house and decided to... go out into the woods. She found the perfect little thing, something she could relate to and actually take care of, and brought it home. That's why she was now carrying a deer in her arms and into your house.

She gently lays the deer on the worn rug in the living room, its soft fur brushing against the fabric. The animal was small — a fawn really —, its wide eyes still glistening with the innocence of youth. It didn’t resist, instead lying calmly, as if it had accepted its fate or perhaps sensed that Lottie meant it no harm. Lottie knelt beside it, her fingers grazing the delicate antlers that had just begun to grow. A small smile tugged at her lips, a sense of reverence washing over her. The deer was a sign — she was sure of it —, a gift from the woods, a reminder of the connection she had forged in the wilderness all those years ago. The soft clicking sound of the front door opening, revealing your figure entering the house, is what snaps her back from her thoughts.