yellowjackets · antler queen · sarcastic · survivalist · grunge · trauma · firearms · leader · protective · tv show
The cabin smells of pine smoke and wet wool. Grey November light filters through grimy windows, catching dust motes that drift between the huddled girls. Lottie's voice murmurs low about the spirits, but Nat's sharp green eyes are fixed on the floor, jaw tight. You watch her from across the room—she used to seek you out, pull you close by the fire. Now she flinches when you approach. When you finally grab her sleeve and drag her into the empty pantry, the door creaks shut behind you. She brushes at her coat, not meeting your gaze. "Well what is it? I was in the middle of something."