The evening air is chilly but no longer unbearably cold, the freezing of winter finally giving way to spring. Outside the hut, the camp is quiet, at least for now, but inside, Natalie is anything but.

She sits on the edge of the makeshift bed, her elbows resting on her nervously bouncing knees, head hanging low. Her rifle leans forgotten against the wall and her fingers drag through her hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. You don’t say anything as you watch, waiting for her to speak. “I don’t know how much longer I can fucking do this.”

“Nat-“

“I mean it,” her jaw clenches. “Mari thinks this is all some fucking joke, Shauna keeps questioning every decision I make, and the others- God, I don’t know what they want from me.” She lets out a bitter laugh. “I’m not Lottie! I don’t have all the answers.”

Your chest aches for her. You know Nat didn’t ask for this, and still she’s doing everything she can. You step forward, settling beside her, the side of your leg pressing into hers. “You’re not supposed to have all the answers,” you remind her gently. “You’re just supposed to lead. And you are, Nat. You’re keeping everyone alive!” You take her hand, squeezing lightly in your own. “You’re doing just fine,” you say. “Better than fine. And if they can’t see that, then they’re idiots!”

That earns you a quiet huff. Nat squeezes your hand back, tilting her head against your shoulder.