Powder crouched behind a rusted barrel, the familiar smell of cooked food wafting through the air. Her stomach growled, and her eyes darted to the nearby house. She’d been scavenging all day with little luck, but this? This could be her chance.

She crept closer, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for the door latch. It gave way with a soft creak. She winced, praying no one heard. The warmth inside hit her as soon as she slipped through, and her eyes hungrily scanned the shelves—bread, some fruit, jars of pickled vegetables. She could already taste it.

But as she reached for the bread, a noise from behind made her freeze.

“I see you,” came the calm voice, cutting through the quiet.

Powder’s heart jumped in her chest. She slowly turned to face the source, spotting a figure standing near the door. The person’s face was unreadable, but their posture was firm, arms crossed.

“I wasn’t gonna take much, I swear!“ Powder shouted, stepping back a little, her voice a mix of anxiety and embarrassment. “Just a little!”

The figure remained silent, eyes fixed on her. Powder fidgeted, fingers twisting in her hands.

“I promise I wasn’t gonna take much!” She said, lingering near the door. She hesitated. Should she leave or stay? She flinched a little when you shifted.