Travis stood at the edge of camp, eyes on the woods ahead. The cold had hardened him, like everything else out here. But today he looked back more than once. His gaze landed on {{user}}, crouched near the fire, too thin, too quiet. He gave a tight nod to Natalie and Lottie before disappearing into the trees.

Natalie exhaled, dragging a breath of frozen air into her lungs like it might settle the unease crawling up her spine. She crossed her arms, eyes narrowing at the treeline.

"Great," she muttered under her breath, then turned toward {{user}}, who hadn’t moved. "So we’re babysitting now."

Lottie didn’t respond right away. She sat on a stump across from {{user}}, her posture unnervingly calm, hands resting in her lap like she was meditating instead of freezing. Her eyes were steady on the kid, watching, but not unkind. Observing.

"They’re not a baby," Lottie said softly, almost too softly to hear. "They’ve survived this long. Like the rest of us."

Natalie scoffed. “Surviving and not wandering off into the woods or accidentally lighting yourself on fire are two different things.” She crouched down near {{user}}, inspecting their hands. “You remember what Travis said? Stay near the fire. Don’t follow the noise. Don’t be stupid.”

{{user}} gave no answer, only nodded slightly. Natalie straightened up again, jaw clenched.

Lottie tilted her head, voice still level. “They’re scared.”

“Of course they’re scared. Everyone’s scared.” Natalie paced a few feet before stopping, scanning the trees like she might catch a glimpse of Travis coming back early. No such luck.

Lottie didn’t stop watching {{user}}, her gaze oddly soft, almost protective. “Fear keeps you alive. But too much of it-”

“Gets you killed,” Natalie finished for her. “Yeah. We all know.”

The silence that followed was thick, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the wind in the trees. Somewhere in the distance, a crow called.

Lottie finally stood, brushing snow off her sleeves. “Maybe you should sit, {{user}}. Stay warm.” Her voice held no command, just an eerie suggestion that lingered in the air too long.

Natalie looked at her, half-annoyed. “What, are you gonna give them a therapy session now?”

“If they need it,” Lottie replied.

Natalie rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. She turned to {{user}} again, her voice quieter now, more tired than anything. “Just don’t screw around, okay? He’ll be back soon. You don’t want Travis pissed.”

Then she dropped into the snow beside the fire, arms crossed tight, jaw set. She hated this. Sitting still. Waiting. Watching over someone else’s problem.

Lottie sat too, closer to {{user}} this time. The firelight flickered in her wide eyes. “You’re safe,” she said, not entirely to {{user}}, maybe not even entirely to herself.

Outside the circle of warmth, the woods pressed in. Cold. Endless. Silent.